A Light in the Dark
by Planeswalker117
Summary: The war is over. The dragon kingdoms are reunited, and peace has finally come to the land. It doesn't last for long. Otherworldly forces beyond imagining strike the Dragon Realms, cutting Warfang off from the rest of the world. In desperation, Spyro and Cynder send a plea for help across the Multiverse. The response they receive is unlike anything the Realms have seen before.
1. Prologue

**A/N - Hey everyone! Welcome to my second fanfiction on this site.**

**I just recently got back into the Spyro fandom, which I have not been in for years. TLoS was the game that made me initially want to write fanfiction, strange as it seems.**

**The Demon and the Primate is on hold for now until I can get out some chapters of this new story. It is not, however, being canceled. I just need some time away from it.**

**Unlike The Demon and the Primate, this story will be M-rated due to sexual themes and references, gore, language, gore, drug and alcohol use, gore, and yeah, did I mention gore? There's gonna be a lot of gore.**

**Some aspects of this story are going to be AU TLoS. I'm also bringing in the different worlds of the classic Spyro games, so you may see some familiar places and faces.**

**Dates on Aslore (the planet Avalar is on) go by this format:**

**Month, day, season, year, age. The years are done by different ages. Ages are every 5,000 years, and it is the 77th age in this story (old, I know. But you'll see why eventually.)**

**Like earth, there is a 12-month calendar, with 365 days in the year.**

**The Legend of Spyro and the characters in it belong to Activision. The cover art doesn't belong to me, and belongs to Iamnie on deviantart.**

**I hope you readers like it. Enjoy!**

_Even in the darkest of times, there is always hope. But sometimes fear clouds our vision. Sometimes our strength gives out. And yet sometimes, when all seems lost, a light shines through the darkness, and we are reminded that even the smallest amount of courage can turn the tides of war._

**Planeswalker117 presents:**

_One bright, one shining spark is all you need to keep going, even when it all seems hopeless. For there is always..._

**A Light in the Dark**

* * *

_Date: Unknown_

_Location: Unknown_

_Time: Late Afternoon_

Free.

They were free.

After seven long years of constant warfare, Spyro and Cynder were free. Free of the Dark Master. Free of the terrible undead armies that devastated the world. Free of the war that killed so many, leaving so few behind to pick up the pieces.

I can do whatever I want now, thought Spyro as he lazily flew through the air. He looked out over the green grass fields below him, each blade flowing and waving in the breezes of Avalar. The sun was shining a brilliant yellow, the birds were chirping their delightful songs, and the flowers gave off a most pleasant aroma.

Spyro weaved to and fro through the trees and bushes throughout this valley, feeling the cool breeze caress his purple and gold scales. With Malefor gone, he was finally able to see the world around him in all its glorious splendor. He could take in everything it held, all without the threat of it being torn away from him.

Because of Malefor, millions had died across the planet. Because of Malefor dragonkind had suffered tremendously, with a large amount of the population dead. Because of Malefor, the world itself was nearly destroyed.

He shook his head, clearing those thoughts away, as he gazed back out across the beautiful landscape of the world.

If only Ignitus were here to see this, he thought, a depressed sigh escaping from his deceased fire Guardian was the closest thing Spyro had to a father. Ignitus was the one who had shown him how to fly, how to use his powers, and told the going dragon that there was always hope in the world.

Spyro tightly closed his eyes, feeling his heart wrench in his chest as Ignitus' last words filled his mind.

"My path ends here. But yours lies beyond this. Draw strength from each other and follow your heart... it will never fail you."

Spyro couldn't believe he was gone. There would be no one to turn to for advice, no one to educate him about the world and what was in it.

I'll always remember him, he thought solemnly.

"Hey Spyro, wait up!" came a feminine voice from behind him. Snapped out of his depressing thoughts, Spyro looked over his shoulder. There was a flash of red and black before the shape of another dragon appeared in his vision beside him.

It was Cynder, his companion on the journey against Malefor, and the most beautiful dragoness he had ever laid eyes on. The black and red scales covering her curvaceous body shone brightly in the sun. Six snow-white horns adorned her head, . The red wing membranes that ran from her bottom-most wing phalanx to the top of her hind legs caught the afternoon light, turning them a bright red. Her jewelry glimmered in the afternoon light, and her tail blade reflected the sun onto his face.

He had gotten to know her incredibly well on their year-long mission to defeat Malefor. They were wary of each other at first, the events of the Eternal Night still fresh in their minds. But unspoken feelings kept them close, and over time they grew to trust and protect each o

There were times where it had gotten awkward, such as the times when they had to relieve themselves or cuddle together to stay warm in colder environments. Other times they had their 'urges' appear, what with both of them being hormonal teenaged dragons.

In the end, though, they had accomplished a mission many of which said could never be done: defeating Malefor, and restoring the world to it's proper state.

Spyro frowned as he stared at the dragoness, a memory appearing in his head. It was back in the center of the planet, after Cynder had said that she wouldn't leave him. The time between pulling the planet back together and now was all a blur to him; a jumble of unusual voices, weird visions, and bright lights that made it impossible to remember what had happened.

But three words

"I love you."

Spyro thought the words. But now, as he gazed at the flying dragoness, he came to the conclusion that it was from the one dragoness that he would die for.

Cynder didn't know just how important those words were for Spyro to hear. His spirit was having a very difficult time trying to piece the world back together, but that phrase gave him the energy boost he needed to repair the planet.

The dragoness flew up right next to him, a large grin on her face. He smiled back, staring into those beautiful green eyes of hers. They reminded him of the great forests of Avalar: full of life and energy, with every twist and turn the beginning of a new adventure.

"Come closer Spyro, I want to tell you something!" she yelled through the air, that smile still on her face.

Confused, Spyro banked slightly to the right, coming up alongside the dragoness. She leaned in close to his ear, opening her mouth to say something. Spyro thought she was going to repeat what she said at the core, so he was understandably surprised when he felt her poke his shoulder.

"Tag! You're it!" she shouted in his ear, causing him to flinch. She quickly darted off as he shook his head, watching her get farther and farther away from him. She turned her head to look at him, a wide smile on her face.

"Cynder!" yelled Spyro as he furiously beat his wings to catch up to her. "Get back here!"

"You'll have to catch me!" she teased him, giggling.

"Just you wait!" he said back, pushing himself harder as he started to close the distance. Soon, her lithe body was only several meters in front of him. He flapped harder, and reached out his hand to touch her hindquarters.

Before he could, however, the lithe dragoness twisted and rolled to the side, out of range of the male's claws. She dove as Spyro swiped again, turning around and attempting to fly underneath him.

Unfortunately for her, Spyro flipped around and dashed towards her. He crashed into Cynder, grabbing her around the chest, and they both went tumbling towards the lake below. Cynder squealed, trying to escape his grasp, but Spyro laughed and held on tight.

"Spyro! What are you doing?!" screamed Cynder, the air rushing by as they quickly descended. The lake was quickly approaching, and her eyes widened when she heard a chuckle emanate from Spyro.

"Better hold your breath!" said Spyro before they landed in the water. She instinctively closed her mouth as she felt the ice-cold water encompass her. The water was clear, and she watched as Spyro let go of her and pushed off the bottom of the lake. Cynder quickly followed suit, and arrived at the surface soon after. She gasped for air, letting it quickly fill her lungs.

Anger filled her as she found Spyro had the audacity to not just dunk her in the freezing water, but disappear right afterwards! Finding herself having trouble swimming, Cynder shifted into her smaller anthro form. She began treading water, turning every which way to see if she could find Spyro.

"Spyro! Come up here you overgrown lizard!" she shouted. Suddenly, a pair of hands came up from behind and grabbed her, pulling her backwards. She squealed, and found herself lying on his chest, now floating lazily on the water.

She turned her head and gazed into his amethyst eyes, seeing the reflection of the sky in them. He chuckled upon seeing the look on her face. Cynder found that her anger melted away, and was replaced with a much calmer feeling.

"I'm going to wipe that grin off your face, you big lug," she giggled, before rolling herself over so that her chest was now against his, her breasts pushing against him. A grin made its way onto Spyro's face as he gazed at her soaking wet form, while she did the same to him.

"Really?" he asked, but his question fell on deaf ears.

The water made his golden scales sparkle in the sun, and Cynder swooned as she took in the sight of the large amount of iron-hard muscle underneath his scales. Her heart rate increased as she gazed over his handsome form, taking in each detail that made her head swim with hormones. His strong wings were splayed out to his sides on the water, the ruby red membrane displacing the water beneath. Giving them a look-over she saw the numerous holes and tears in them, each caused by a fight with Malefor's forces.

His body had grown and matured since they first met. He was so much smaller and thinner back then. Now, he had the body of an 20 year old dragon in the frame of a 17 year old, with large muscles, a well defined jawline, strong, elegant wings, a long, thick tail, and horns and fins that made any girl go crazy at the sight.

He was the most wonderful thing Cynder had ever laid eyes on, and was the only thing that had kept her from turning back to the side of Malefor. He was the most important thing in the world to her, and she hoped he knew that.

Spyro shifted his wings and back, soon finding a comfortable position. The purple dragon let his eyes gaze over the form of the dragoness laying on top of him. He let out a content sigh as he took in the sight of her body. Her beautiful crown of horns, her red breasts that were squashed against his chest, her sinister looking tail blade, her curvaceous body, her large, stunning wings, he loved all of it.

She meant everything to him, and he would never let her go. It didn't matter if the whole universe was coming to end, as long as he had her by his side.

To the casual observer they were in an awkward position, but they didn't mind. They had found themselves in more awkward positions than this, and neither of them minded. Cynder lowered her head to his chest, resting it right underneath his muzzle. She purred, inhaling his wonderful scent. It drove her hormones wild, and she suddenly the urge to kiss him, play with him, mate with him.

"I thought you were gonna come after me," he smirked, the words cutting through the silence, and snapping out of her hormone-induced craze. She figured out what he meant, be she didn't feel like chasing him right now.

Cynder looked him in the eyes for a few seconds before responding "Nah." She wrapped her arms around his torso, gazing deep into his purple depths.

"I'd rather lie here with you," she said smiling. Spyro returned the smile, and they remained there on the water.

They stayed there several hours, Cynder floating on top of Spyro's chest, watching the sun slowly moved through the sky. They took in all the sounds of nature: from the tweeting of birds to the croaks of frogs, from the whistling of the grasses to the sound of the waterfall behind them.

"Spyro, how do you think Flame and Ember are?" asked Cynder, somewhat out of the blue. Spyro glanced at her, a look of worry and concern on her face. He thought back to Flame, his best friend aside from Sparx, and his lover, Ember.

Flame was a fire dragon, with crimson red scales and golden horns, similar to him. His head fins were also golden, along with his chest and underbelly scales. Spyro first met Flame on one of his missions back when Cynder was missing before the Eternal Night. They had found each other in the swamp where Cynder was captured in front of his eyes, and had at first thought Flame was an attempt by Malefor to lull him into a false sense of security. That proved wrong however, and they fought alongside each other up until Spyro had to encompass himself, Cynder, and Sparx in the crystal. They found each other again at the battle of Warfang, and had fought side-by-side once again against the stone golem.

Ember was a fire dragoness that Flame had met sometime when Spyro and Cynder were inside the crystal. Her pink and ruby scales made her stand out amongst the crowd, and had caused Flame to fall in love with her. Spyro and Cynder had first met Ember during the defense of Warfang. She, along with Flame, helped them against the golem, and had saved numerous lives. She and Cynder got along quite well, and was the only other dragoness Cynder knew that she could call friend.

"I don't know," responded Spyro, ending his train of thought. He hoped that Flame and Ember were fine, along with the rest of the denizens of Warfang, but he didn't know for sure. The Guardians would protect them, and they had allies all throughout Warfang that would be willing to keep them safe. "But I think they're fine."

"Hmm," pondered Cynder as she scratched some of Spyro's belly scales, causing him to chuckle from the feeling.

Flame and Ember were the only other dragons, aside from the Guardians, that she had met who weren't afraid of her or held a deep grudge against her. Others feared her, believing that she would turn and kill them at any moment. In Warfang mothers would shy their children away from her, some would spit at her, and some even tried to attack her. Fortunately, Spyro, the Guardians, Flame, and Ember were there to encourage her, and tell her that things were going to be alright.

Ember was someone who Cynder could talk to about her dark history. Flame encouraged her, telling her that her previous actions were not her fault, and taught her how to put up with the bad remarks and actions directed at her.

Spyro noticed her worried expression, and did his best to comfort her. He reached around and ran his four-fingered hands up and down Cynder's arms.

"Cynder, Flame and Ember will be fine. They can take care of themselves. And now that the Dark Master is gone, Warfang should be the safest city in Avalar," he said.

Cynder nodded and pushed the worrying thoughts away. Unfortunately, that only brought another, more serious question in her mind.

"How many dragons do you think are left out there?" she asked Spyro, not gazing in her direction.

"I don't know. Hopefully enough to keep our species going," he replied. He looked up at Cynder, noticing tears beginning to collect in her eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asked. Cynder sniffled, then turned her away. Her next words came out in a whisper.

"I killed so many, Spyro. So many. It didn't matter who or what they were: old, young, male, female," she said, beginning to sob. Images flew through her head: blood flying through the air as she tore apart younglings, dismembered bodies, guts and gore falling to the ground as she ripped open adults. She would rip off wings, break bones, tear out organs, and other horrible actions to anyone that was caught in her path.

Even though the darkness had left her, Malefor had cursed her with being forced to relive the actions that named her the 'Terror of the Skies'. She would be forever tormented with nightmares showing how cruel she truly was.

She felt a hand of warm scales cup her muzzles and direct her head away from looking out across the lake to the warm eyes of her purple savior.

"Cynder," he started, rubbing her cheek with paw, wiping away the salty tears that had escaped from her eyes. It warmed her heart that he did this for her, when he really had no true reason to. She sobbed again, her body heaving as all the unpleasant thoughts overwhelmed her.

"That wasn't you. That was Malefor's doing. It wasn't you who killed all those innocents. It wasn't you who brought back Malefor. It wasn't you who willingly obeyed every order given by Malefor or Gaul. You fought against the Dark Army. You saved dragons all across the world. You and I defeated Malefor," he continued. Cynder immediately felt better upon hearing his words, the bad thoughts instantly leaving, only to be replaced by the good ones of her and Spyro. Only Spyro was capable of saying something that resounded so much within her.

"I remember what Malefor said and did to you back at the heart of the world. I know he cursed you to have to relive all those memories of the bad things your evil side did. But," he started, staring her straight in the eyes. She felt his hand start rubbing her back, soothing her, comforting her.

"I'll always be there for you. I'll help keep those nightmares away. But you'll have to let me help you. Can you do that for me?" he asked, a gentle smile on his face. Cynder nodded, her mood lightening. The fact that he would go out of his way to help her made her feel like she mattered in this world; that she could help it rebuild itself.

She decided to ask Spyro a question that had never been on her mind before.

"Was your childhood nice Spyro? I mean, before you had to go out and save the world?"

"It was nice. I remember mine was filled with thoughts of dragonflies and going exploring in the swamps around our home," he stated. "What about you?"

"All I remember of my childhood was that it was filled with pain and despair. Gaul was not a very nice creature, and Malefor was even worse."

"We didn't really have standard childhoods, did we?" he solemnly stated. Cynder nodded. "We both had them torn away from us, what with you being corrupted by the Dark Master and me having to save the world."

"Yeah. Especially considering the fact that…well..." she trailed off. Spyro, who was watching a pair of fish swim by, turned to look at her.

"Consider what?" he questioned. He watched as her face contorted, bad memories likely coming to the surface.

Cynder sighed.

"Spyro, do you ever wonder about your parents?"

"Sometimes. I wonder if they swamp they're in is still arou-" he began before Cynder suddenly interrupted him.

"No, Spyro, I meant your biological parents," she stated. His mouth opened in a small 'O' as the words hit him. He turned his head and stared off into the sky for several seconds as he thought of his real parents.

"I-No, I guess I haven't really. I mean, I have my foster ones, but I've never really thought about my real ones," he said, turning back to look at her.

"Do you think we'll ever meet them? I've never known who they were or what kind of dragon they were. I would give almost anything to find them," said Spyro, frowning as he thought about where his parents where. Were they dead? Or were they out there somewhere, in one of the lost dragon empires?

"Even me?"

"Not you, Cynder. Never you," he replied, giving her a toothy smile that warmed her heart. Those words made her feel special, that she truly meant something to him. She couldn't help but smile back.

I would never give you up Cynder, even if it was the end of the world, he thought upon gazing at her smile. As he stared at her a shaft of light from the sun seemed to light her up, showing off her beauty.

He squinted as he looked up at the sky. The sun was beginning to descend, and nighttime would fall in a couple hours.

'We should find some food and a place to rest before it gets too dark,' he thought. Avalar could get cold during the night, so it was also important that they got a small fire going.

"We should get out of the water now. Sun's beginning to set, and we still need to find some food and shelter," he said, and Cynder nodded. She rolled off of him into the water and swam to shore. Spyro did the same, and watched her from behind as he followed her.

He couldn't help but stare at her; her form was exquisite, and the way she used her hands and wings to swim showed off the strong muscles beneath her scales. He wondered what it would feel like to be on the receiving end of her…

He shook the naughty thoughts from her head and quickly followed after her.

They soon got to shore, where they both reverted to feral forms before shaking the water off themselves. Their scales shown in the afternoon light as they stretched their wings. Flapping several times they got the water off of their wings and folded them against their bodies.

Together, they hunted down a feral deer before locating some firewood. Spyro soon had a roaring fire going, on which the the deer was cooked. Both dragons ate their fill, and Spyro froze the rest of the meat to keep it preserved. He left the fire going, and both dragons soon lay down on the soft grass.

They lay together for a while, resting and listening to the sounds of crickets. The sun continued to descend and cast the sky in a glowing red and purple color.

Cynder's thoughts slowly turned from her past to what her future would be like. She hoped that Spyro would be in it, and that he would be with her until the day that she died.

She imagined a life with him: growing up, remaining as the defenders of the Realms, settling down, growing old, having children… if it was still possible.

Could Malefor's evil have corrupted her to the point where she could never have hatchlings of her own?

She filed the thoughts away when Spyro broke the silence around them.

"When I started the process of bringing the planet back together, I heard something. Something that I have never heard spoken to me," started Spyro. Cynder gazed into his amethyst eyes as he stared off into the night sky.

"At first I didn't know who had said it. I thought it was my parents or Ignitus who said it, but it didn't sound like them. Now I realize who did," he continued. Cynder felt so many emotions build up in her chest. Feelings of love and comfort were the most prominent, but did Spyro know that?

"I heard you say… that you loved me," Spyro turned his head and gazed deep into her eyes. Cynder was speechless, shocked that Spyro had even heard her whisper those words to him. He knew how she felt about her, what kept her going. But did he feel the same way?

"And I just want to say that…" he stared, taking a deep breath. Here goes nothing.

Cynder held her breath, hoping that what he said next was what she had wanted to hear for a very long time now.

"...I love you too," he finished. Silence passed between the two as Cynder's heart fluttered at the words. Tears began to well up in her eyes, threatening to burst forth. THe dragoness smiled.

"Spyro," she said, a lone tear making its way down her cheek. Her lover looked at her with his warming gaze, and her heart fluttered again. Tears of joy began trickling from her eyes. Her current fears vanished, her love of the dragon next to her replacing them.

"Thank you. For everything."

They embraced. Slowly, their lips pressed against one another as their previously unspoken feelings finally made themselves known. Cynder felt Spyro's warm, strong hands cup the sides of her jaw as they both moaned into the kiss. Their tails intertwined, coiling around the other as their wings brought them closer together.

They soon broke apart, gasping for air from the fierce kiss. Cynder cooed as she looked upon Spyro's face. They had found each other, in a world so broken and damaged, and had found something wonderful.

For Spyro, Cynder was the only dragoness that could ever be worthy to him. No one else could match her beauty, her loyalty, her love. She was capable of great feats, just like him. Everyone called him the savior of the world, when in reality Cynder was there with him every step of the way. Even though she had done terrible deeds in her past, he looked past that, and saw what she truly was.

For Cynder, Spyro was the only dragon that she could ever love. He was the only one that could offer her protection, offer her warmth, offer her love: all things that had been denied to her for her entire life. He was the first dragon that had looked past all the dark deeds she had committed before, and had forgave her for them. He knew that it wasn't her that had done them, but a dark part of her that she couldn't control.

They were meant for each other. Both of them complimented each other, both of them capable of bring out the best in the other. They were the perfect match, the best pair. Separated, they were just two dragons. But together, they were one.

"My black dragoness," he whispered, cupping her muzzle in his paw. "I'll never find anyone who could be like you."

"My purple hero," she whispered back, holding his head in her paws. "There'll never be anyone who can take your place."

They snuggled against one another; Cynder nuzzling his chin as he pulled her close to his chest. Their wings wrapped around each other, bringing their hearts closer together.

Tomorrow, they would begin their journey back to Warfang, where the Guardians and their friends would be waiting for them.

Tonight, however, they forgot about the problems of the world and the need to return home. They forgot about Malefor, about Ignitus, or anyone else in the world

Tonight, they belonged to each other. As the moon ascended into the sky and the stars revealed themselves, the dragon pair fell asleep in each other's arms, free and at peace.

And they wouldn't have it any other way.

* * *

"Look at them. Nothing that's been thrown at them has been able to stop them. I'm so glad we chose well about who to bestow our power on. They have done so much for this world. Shouldn't we give them a little time to rest?"

"While they may have saved the planet, there is still so much that needs to be done. Aside from reuniting the empires, we still need them to make contact with the other Realms. Our species needs to be fully reunited if we hope to stand a chance against it. We must have them move quickly, before the other gods begin to get suspicious about our methods."

"Even after they prevented Malefor from breaching the portal and entering the other Realms? That has rarely happened, the last time it was-"

"Malefor was only the beginning, as were the other purple dragons before him. Yes, they may have turned from the path, but I feel that in time they may become useful once more. We must focus on fighting that which threatens all the Realms."

"And if they can't defeat it? You know how strong it has gotten. Countless Realms have fallen to it's hunger and rage. It brings death and destruction and perdition wherever it goes. Even Gods have fallen before it."

"If our children can't defeat it, then we ask them for help."

"..."

"Surely you don't mean…!"

"I do. If all else fails, we will ask them for help."

"Why?! So they can destroy us again? Don't you remember what they've done?! They've killed their own god! Last time our kind met them we were forced to banish them to a different Realm because of their power! If we bring them here, there is no telling what might happen!"

"If we do nothing, then we lose everything! Right now it's just an idea, nothing more. For now, we must place our trust and power in Spyro and Cynder."

"And what will you tell the others of this? How do you think they will handle it, having one of the most dangerous races in the Realms return?"

"I will tell them when and if the time is right. As for how they will handle it, they don't really have a choice. If we fail, they'll just have to see that this decision will save everything."

"And what if they find out about what we did to them? Not just you or me, but all of us?"

"Then let us hope they will believe us. I can only hope that we will not be judged too harshly for our decisions. If they have truly changed, then we will finally be rid of this threat that has destroyed so many Realms."

"And if they haven't?"

"Then we die."

* * *

**Check my profile page for the designs of characters and species you will see in this story.**

**Please review! They keep me motivated and are a big help with my writing!**


	2. A1: C1: Thoughts and Memories

**A/N: Hey everyone! Sorry for the long wait. I got into a really long writing spree and just didn't know when to stop. What I had originally planned for chapter 1 got turned into 3 chapters because of the sheer size of the content.**

**Themes for this chapter: Twilight Falls theme and Valley of Avalar from Dawn of the Dragon Soundtrack.**

**Disclaimer: Legend of Spyro and it's characters belong to Activision. I don't own them. I only own the plot of the this story, my ideas, and my own characters.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

_Location Unknown_

_Date Unknown_

_Time: Morning_

_..._

Spyro awoke to the feeling of the morning sun heating up his scales. He blinked several times, letting out a large yawn as his body was brought of its sleep cycle. A cool breeze brushed over him, invigorating his body.

The dragon was confused at the sensation of a warm mass pressed against his chest. Glancing down, the purple dragon saw the black form of Cynder cuddled against him, her body rising and falling with every breath. Spyro smiled. The dragoness was even more beautiful when she was sleeping.

Spyro closed his eyes, listening to the sounds of nature. He could hear the chirping of birds, water gushing over a waterfall, splashing coming from the river, and the wind rustling the grass behind him.

And coming from him was a low but loud growling sound from his stomach. His body was up, and it was hungry. Spyro quietly groaned; the scene was just so nice and he really didn't want to disturb it. His stomach growled again, and Spyro realized that it wouldn't stop until it was filled.

The purple dragon ignored the rumblings of his belly, and gazed over the prone form of Cynder. His heart fluttered when he spotted the look on her face as she snuggled against his chest, his scales heating where she exhaled. Her paws had curled next to his ribcage, and her tail was intertwined with his.

If only this moment could last forever.

His stomach growled again, louder than before. He really needed food. He sighed, as getting food meant breaking away from Cynder. That task was easier said than done.

The purple dragon began to ease his body away from hers, slowly untangling himself and shifting backwards away from Cynder. She suddenly inhaled and stretched, and Spyro froze. Fortunately, she simply went back to sleeping, curling up into a ball. Spyro let out a breath, not realizing he had held one in. He continued to pull away from her, and was soon far enough away that he could stand up without moving up.

He rose to all fours, when he felt something tugging his tail. Craning his neck, he looked past his wings to see Cynder had grabbed his tail with hers again. And this time it appeared that she didn't want to let go. He let out a small groan, unsure as to how get her to release him.

He sat on his haunches, an idea slowly taking form in his head. A grin slowly spread across his face. Turning around, tail still entwined, he switched to his anthro form.

He raised his arms above his head and splayed his wings out to the sides. There were several popping and cracking noises as he got out all the kinks in his body. It felt incredibly nice; the feeling of blood rushing to his limbs was a good one.

Turning back to Cynder, it was time to put his plan in action. He grinned, and kneeled next to her. He brought his hands up to her sides before ferociously tickling the dragoness.

Cynder started twitching and giggling in her sleep, and tried to unconsciously move his hands away. But the purple dragon didn't let up. He tickled her stomach and worked his way up her chest. Her tail started to slowly unravel from his, so Spyro tickled her faster.

Cynder's giggles turned into squeals and soon full-out laughter as her eyes shot open.

"S-Sp-Spyro! St-stop i-it!" She stammered, a wide grin on her face as she giggled. She twisted and writhed at his touch, his claws dancing over the maroon and ebony scales covering her body. She tried to get back at him, but each time her paws got close to his chest he would tickle her harder.

"Sp-Spyro!" she whined, but it was soon replaced by more giggling. Suddenly, she heard a low rumbling noise, and his tickling onslaught stopped. He groaned, and shifted back to his feral form. He stood up, Cynder watching him curiously. He turned around and faced her.

"Morning, beautiful," he said, kissing her on the forehead. She smiled, and nuzzled his chin.

"'Morning, handsome," she replied, yawning.

"How'd you sleep?" Spyro asked.

"Pretty well. You kept me nice and warm throughout the night," she said, her smile widening. He smiled as well, and licked her muzzle. That low rumbling noise sounded again, and Spyro blushed. She giggled at his expression, when her stomach growled suddenly, even louder than Spyro's.

Spyro burst out laughing at the sound. Cynder furiously blushed underneath her scales. Embarrassed, she turned away, only to have Spyro reach out and turn her head to face him.

"Hey, it's okay. I was only laughing because of low much louder your stomach was compared to mine," Spyro explained, a smile gracing his muzzle. Cynder nodded, the blush quickly fading.

"Anyways, I was going to go look for some food. Would you like to join me?" he asked. Cynder smiled, giving him a brief kiss on the lips. His eyes widened, but quickly relaxed when he pulled away.

"I would love to," she said, her eyes sparkling in the morning light. Spyro grinned, and they walked off into the forest for food.

An hour later they returned to the valley. The blackberry plants in the forest were just in season, and Spyro had caught and killed a large buck that that they roasted. They even stumbled upon a mushroom patch, which Spyro said was edible.

They both ate until their bellies were stuffed. They washed it down with a cool drink from the nearby stream, and returned back to the valley. They laughed and joked along the way, both of them feeling free to discuss whatever they wanted.

Returning back to the valley they decided to take a small nap before taking a bath in the stream and heading out to Warfang. They lay down in the green grasses of the valley; basking in the warm sun and the presence of each other.

* * *

Cynder blinked her eyes open and yawned as she woke up from her nap. She stretched her body, a brief sense of euphoria passing through as blood rushed through her limbs.

She rolled onto her stomach and gazed at the beautiful valley around her. There was a nice waterfall nearby, tall flowers and grasses, and the small pond that she and Spyro had played in two days ago. The place reminded her a lot of Twilight Falls and the Valley of Avalar.

She sighed in content. Her life was just perfect now. The valley around her was wonderful. The war was over. The lands were returning back to their natural state. Malefor was gone, and she was free of his taint. The world could go back to the way it was before the war.

But those weren't as important as something else.

She had someone who loved her. Someone who looked through the façade she had put up to drive others away from her. Someone who didn't care about her dark history and the part she had played in the damage to dragonkind.

Someone who loved her for who she was.

Spyro was such an amazing dragon because of that, and she was so happy she had him. She loved every part of him: his heroic personality, how he wanted to help those around him even if it got him hurt, his body…

She shook her head, trying to clear it of those hormone-induced thoughts, but she couldn't help it.

There was a reason so many dragonesses had flocked to him whenever they saw him. Spyro was hot.

Gazing over his teenage form, she took in the sight of his growing body. His strong muscles bulged beneath his lustrous coat of purple scales. The golden horns adorning his head were strong and sturdy. Underneath his chin and on either side of his jaw several new horns were starting to emerge, giving him a very masculine appearance. There were new, tougher yellow scales growing over his shoulders to meet the golden ones on his chest. The red wing membrane was torn and had several small holes in it that showed Spyro had been in many fights. His tailblade was also growing as well, and now looked more like a club than a leaf. Small golden spikes were jutting out of his elbows and knees on his legs, and hardened golden scales were starting to come in on his shoulders.

And he was hers. He had chosen her because of what she meant to him, not because of how she looked or acted. Those other dragonesses could fawn over him all they wanted, but in the end he would always be hers.

She smiled, thinking about the great life ahead of her. It didn't matter to her what others thought about her; all that mattered was how Spyro felt about her. She couldn't wait for the day when they would become mates, and even possibly having children.

She was shaken out of her thoughts as she saw Spyro shift out of the corner of her eye. He stretched and yawned, revealing his sharp, white teeth. Cynder felt a slight tugging on her tail, and realized that it had again intertwined with Spyro's.

She blushed, but didn't move her tail. Looking up at the sky, she realized that it was about midday. They still had to bathe before heading back to Warfang.

She turned to Spyro and gently kissed him on the forehead.

"Spyro, wake up," she whispered. He mumbled in his sleep before his eyes slowly opened. He yawned again, blinking the sleep away from his eyes. His long tongue flicked over his lips, wetting the dry scales.

"Hmm?" he murmured. He slowly rose to his feet.

"It's nearly midday. We were going to go bathe in the pond, right?" asked Cynder. Spyro drowsily nodded his head, still shaking off the last dregs of sleep from his body.

"Yeah. The water should also help wake me up," he said. Cynder nodded and rose to her feet. They both walked down to the nearby pond, Spyro transfixed by her swinging tail and rear. Arriving at the edge of the pond they shifted to their other forms.

They both took a moment to admire each others bodies before diving into the cold water. It was highly refreshing; the hot sun bore down on them throughout the day, and they had gotten somewhat dirty when they had gone hunting in the forest.

Spyro swam over to the nearby waterfall and treaded the water right underneath it. He let the cool water splash over him, wetting the scales and making them shine in the sunlight. Dirt and grass was washed off by the force of the water.

He swam away, wings folded against his back, and floated on top of the water. He didn't see Cynder anywhere, but he didn't mind. She was probably under the waterfall.

He was startled when he felt something suddenly grab his foot. He yelped, and yanked his foot away. The thing let go, but he couldn't see anything when he peered into the water.

He looked around the pool again as silence filled the area. It was quiet, too quiet.

Wait - Where's Cynder?

Without warning something grabbed his leg and pulled down. He yelped again before his head became submerged in the water. He was dragged down, being pulled further and further beneath the surface. He kicked his leg, and the thing let go, right as a black form suddenly appeared in front of the purple dragon.

It was Cynder. A childish grin was on her face, stretching from ear to ear. She lunged at Spyro, wings helping propel her underwater, and grabbed him before tickling him. He tried to laugh, but only got a mouthful of water instead.

He pushed her off and swam for the surface, lungs burning. He gasped for air as he broke the surface of the pond.

Cynder tackled him into the water again, tickling his sides. He tried to shove her off but she held on. Her deft hands flew across his body, tickling him everywhere. His sides, neck, chest and stomach, it didn't matter.

"Aghh!" he sputtered, laughing and coughing up water at the same time. He bucked backwards, trying to throw Cynder off his back, but he was unable to. Instead, he just launched himself backwards onto the water.

Cynder quickly let go of him before coming around and popping out of the water in front of him.

"What was that for?" he asked,

She grinned at him, a blush forming on his face. "That was for earlier this morning," she said, giggling at his expression. He smiled back, but he quickly took on a mischievous expression as he jumped out of the water and onto her.

Cynder screamed before she was forced underwater. Spyro was taking her deeper and deeper into the pond until they hit the bottom. She saw plenty of fish and several grass-like plants on the pond floor before she suddenly felt both of them rising towards the surface.

When they breached the surface Spyro tossed her up in the air and several feet away back into the water. She came back up soaking wet, water trailing down her form. Sunlight reflected off her wing blades and visible jewelry, making them shine..

He was torn from his reverie as water was splashed against his muzzle.

"Asshole!" she yelled, sticking her tongue out at him as Spyro laughed. She swam away to another spot as Spyro took in the scenery around them. It was quite nice; he watched as several deer pranced over to the water's edge before taking a nice long drink of water.

His eyes spotted a pair of pink and white flowered plants about ten meters away from him on the shore. He instantly recognized them as soap plants: plants that would create a foamy lather when their juice was applied to water. He grinned; it would be good for both he and Cynder to soap themselves down, getting all the dirt off their scales and giving both of them a nice scent.

"Hey Cynder," he called. The dragoness in question looked up from what she was doing and gazed over at him. "There's a couple of soap plants over by the shore. Wanna use 'em?" asked Spyro, winking at her as he spoke. She understood what he meant, and smiled, batting her eyes.

"Why, I would love to," she replied in the most sultry voice she could pull off, before swimming over to him. He paddled over to her, watching the muscles underneath her scales move and shift as she back stroked over to him.

"Last one to get a plant has to scrub the other's back first!" yelled Cynder as she quickly took off swimming. She burst past a stunned Spyro who blinked before he caught on.

"Hey, that's no fair! You got a head start!" he yelled after her. He shot forward, but his larger form made it harder to . But watching her swim made him come up with a plan. Would she get mad at him for it? Possibly. Would it work? Definitely.

Grinning, he dove underwater and jetting forward. He quietly came up underneath Cynder, who was so focused on getting to shore that she didn't check her surroundings.

He came up from underneath her and grabbed her legs. Cynder gave a startled yelp as he pulled her underwater before quickly swimming past her. He rocketed through the water and quickly arrived on shore, the soap plant just a couple feet ahead of him.

He would have reached it if it weren't for Cynder rushing past him with her wind element. She knocked him aside with her tail and grabbed one of the plants, tearing it out of the ground.

She turned to him, a wide grin on her face.

"Looks like I win Spyro!" She happily said. Spyro grumbled, but returned her smile as he picked himself up and walked over to the plants.

"You cheated," he said.

"Oh, and you didn't by trying to drag me under water?" she replied. Spyro blushed, causing Cynder to giggle.

"Looks like I'll have to scrub your back first," he said, a seductive smirk on his face. Cynder giggled and wrapped her tail around his, batting her eyelashes at him.

"That'll be nice," she purred, taking his hand and dragging him out to the water. They laughed and swam over to waterfall. They shredded up the soap plants and mixed the juices with the water, creating a nice foamy lather. Cynder turned around and faced away from Spyro, giving him clear access to her back. He pressed his hands against her back and slowly began rubbing them up and down her spine.

Cynder lightly moaned in pleasure as Spyro massaged her back, tracing over the symbol on her lower back with his talons and lathering her back with soap. He scrubbed the area where her wing membranes met her scales, thoroughly cleaning away the grime and giving it a nice smell.

He gently kneaded her shoulders and the area right below them, removing any knots and other stressed muscles underneath her ebony scales. His hands went up and down her back, getting the soap in between all the scales and clearing them of dirt, dust, and grime.

As Spyro worked on rubbing her back, Cynder lathered down her front with soap. Her hands rubbed up and down her red-scaled chest, going from her neck towards her legs. Soap suds trailed behind her hands as she cooed at the gentle touches she was receiving. Spyro's hands run across her wing membranes, his touch feeling nice on the leathery skin. Wanting him to get all of it, she spread her wings out to both sides, catching the sun's rays and making them glow a blood red.

His hands ran down the bony wing phalanges and membrane, coating them with soap suds. He could see the the veins in her wings thanks to the sunlight, and absent-mindedly traced them with his claws.

He listened to the cute moans she made as his hands trailed further down her belly, and felt her writhe as he daintily brushed over her ruby red scales.

Several minutes went by as Spyro continued to soap down Cynder before she turned to him, a gleam in her emerald eyes. "My turn to soap you now, purple boy," smirked Cynder. She picked up several of the untouched plants floating in the water and tore them up.

Spyro turned around so that his wings faced her as she mixed the sap of the plant with the water. She rubbed her hands together, the soapy lather forming on them. She started rubbing her gentle hands up and down his back, the soap getting mixed in with his scales.

He purred slightly as he felt her warm touch on his back. Her hands trailed up his wings, rubbing the lather over the membranes and phalanges. His wings flared out as her hands scraped along the membrane. He gave a shudder as her hands moved back down to his back, but this time rubbing his spinal fins.

He moaned as her hands ran over each and every fin. She loved the feeling of the rough, bony material the fins were made of on her scaled hands. She pinched the red membrane between the bone and his scales, and he arched his back.

Eventually she finished scrubbing him down, and they both turned to look at each other. Covered head-to-toe in soap suds it was hard to even recognize them as dragons.

They settled underneath the waterfall, letting the cool water splash over them and rinse their bodies of the soap. Spyro dipped his head back and opened his mouth, filling it with water. He gargled, causing Cynder to laugh, and swished it around in his mouth.

He spat the water out at her, and Cynder squealed as the cold water splashed against her face. She coughed and splashed him back, causing him to chuckle. They went back and forth like this for a few minutes, laughing and giggling as they tossed water back and forth at each other.

When they were done they got out of the pond and climbed up the rock face next to the waterfall. The sun had warmed up the stone, and the two dragons decided sunbathe on it.

They rested there, both feeling happy and excited about returning back to Warfang. Maybe now they could finally settle down and not have to worry about saving the world anymore.

At least, Spyro was. Cynder wasn't. Unlike Spyro, she was actually dreading having to return to Warfang and the Guardians. Aside from having the two go out and do more tasks for them, there were undoubtedly going to be dragons returning from faraway lands and villages. And many of them would know who and what she was.

What will they think of me? Cynder asked herself. Will the other dragons believe that I've changed, or will they still see the 'Terror of the Skies'? Will they see a changed dragoness, or just a creature that's just waiting to strike?

She sighed, mournfully, the memories of the past rising up once more. Dead bodies, burning villages, children torn away from parents… it was too much for her. She shifted to her side, facing away from Spyro. Tears welled up in her eyes, already anticipating what she would hear from the new dragons:

"Murderer!" a large male dragon would yell.

"You killed my parents!" a hatchling would cry.

"My children are dead because of you and your army!" screamed a sobbing dragoness.

"You burnt my village to ashes!" several cheetahs shouted.

She watched as an angry mob slowly formed around her, Spyro nowhere to be found. The mob closed in on her, ready to tear her to pieces.

Spyro….

Where was he? Why wasn't he here with her?

Closing her eyes tightly, she quietly sobbed, the memories and thoughts being too much for her to handle. The tears started falling from her eyes, forming dark spots on the stone beneath. She folded her wings over her head and brought her paws up to her face.

Spyro heard her sigh and turned to look at her. He wasn't expecting to see her turned away from him, wings folded over her head, her sides sporadically rising and falling. Craning his head, he heard the soft sounds of crying coming from her.

"Cynder?" he softly called.

She didn't move, but the crying continued. Concerned, he got up and walked over to her, tail swishing behind him. He kneeled down next to her and moved her wings out of the way.

He was surprised to see the tears coming from her eyes. He reached for her, but she moved away, burying her face deeper into her paws The tears flowed between the scales, dripping onto the stone below.

Why would she be crying? mused Spyro. It wasn't like her to just spontaneously start crying. What's bothering her so much?

"Cynder, please, what's wrong?" Concern was laced in his voice. He moved to comfort her, picking her up and wrapping her in his paws. His wings folded over her, and she suddenly hugged him.

He was surprised at her grip around his chest and back. She sobbed into his chest, wetting his scales with her tears.

"I-I can't go back there," she whimpered, voice slightly muffled. Spyro craned his head down and gave her a kiss on the head between her two largest horns. He didn't speak, and just let her get all of her pent-up emotions out of her system.

"Th-they'll ha-hate me Spyro. After all those things I did, all those that I killed and the lives I ruined," she continued. Letting out a mournful cry, she buried her face deeper into his golden chest.

Spyro reached around and began stroking her back.

"Shhhh. It's okay, Cynder, it's okay. I'm here," he said, doing his best to comfort his love. It seemed to be working - her choked sobs were less frequent, and she took in several deep breaths. "Just let it all out."

"What will they think of me Spyro?" Cynder asked, her flow of tears slowing down. "Will they still see me as the 'Terror of the Skies?

"They'll think what they want. Just don't let their words get to you, especially those that say you're still evil," Spyro replied. He his ran up and down her back, calming her down as she let out another choked sob. "Because they're wrong. You're not evil; you're a beautiful dragoness that wants to put the past behind her and focus on the future."

"And what if they try to hurt me Spyro? Some will go out of their way to get revenge on me. You can protect me all you want Spyro, but there will be those that will want me dead," Cynder sobbed.

"If they try to hurt you Cynder, they'll have to answer to me. If they lay even a claw on you I will rip theirs off," he growled. Cynder's eyes widened as she heard the growl and his words. Spyro never growled around her, usually saving it when talking about Malefor and his armies. But what he said… Spyro never talked that way about innocents.

Meanwhile, Spyro's mind raced. There would be others who would try to hurt her or even win her over. He growled internally at these thoughts. Cynder was his. She had chosen him, and no one else. She belonged to him, and he needed to protect her. Unconsciously, Spyro had tapped into the emotions of some of the first dragons of the world: those of possession, and how they would guard their possessions with their life.

"Cynder, you're the most important thing in the world to me. They'll be angry, and will probably say some unkind things, but so what? Who gives a damn what they think? I sure as hell don't. You shouldn't either. Instead you should care about what those who are close to you think," he continued, pulling her closer to him.

"I love you so much, Cynder, and I'll never stop. Ignore their words; listen to mine, Flames', Embers', and the Guardians' words instead. Those other people will come to their senses in time. Sure, they won't like you now, but hopefully they'll come to realize that they were wrong about you," said Spyro, taking her head in his paws and staring into her emerald eyes.

"Why?" she asked pulling away from him and turning her back to him. The silver tears came again, threatening to pour from her eyes.

"Why what?" Spyro asked, confused. Cynder walked away from him and sat down onto her haunches.

"Why do you love me? After all the things I did, all the peopled I've killed and injured-"

"Cynder."

"-all the times I enslaved and destroyed villages and sent my armies to kill and maim-"

"Cynder!"

"I hurt you Spyro!" yelled Cynder, turning back to face him. "I hurt you and Ignitus and the other Guardians! I did terrible things to them, terrible things to you! How could you ever love a creature like me?!"

"CYNDER!" yelled Spyro, finally getting her attention. She looked him in the eye, her tears flowing once more. They dripped down her facial scales and around her muzzle before falling onto the stone. Then she saw it.

Spyro had tears in his eyes as well, afraid of what she was saying. On their journey together she would have episodes of where she felt that the world was against her, but never anything this bad. This… wasn't like her.

"Cynder, please. Don't do this," Spyro pleaded, tears falling down his face. He walked over to her and grabbed her in a tight hug before she could try to walk away from him. He wrapped his wings around her and kissed her deeply on the lips.

Cynder's eyes opened wide before they relaxed as she melted into the kiss. In that moment all her previous thoughts and troubles just seemed to float away. Her heart fluttered and butterflies danced in her stomach as their passion worked its way into the kiss. Spyro had that effect on her, it seemed.

Spyro broke the kiss, tears still in his eyes. He stared at her longingly with his amethyst eyes, trying to find the best way to calm down Cynder. He had already tried what he knew would usually work: telling her that it would be okay, and that he would be there for her.

But that wasn't working. Time to take it up a notch, he thought.

He pulled her close again, resting his head atop of hers. He could hear her sniffling loudly. With a sigh, he told her just what she needed to hear.

"Cynder, I love you because you stayed with me. I love you because you fought against your dark past, trying to change it and be forgiven. I love you because you're intelligent, brave, spirited, determined, and independent. But most of all, I love you because you try to protect those that you love the most. You ran away from the Temple that one night because you wanted to protect me from your you and your guilt."

She stopped crying, taking in his words. Powerful emotions built up in her chest, causing her heart to flutter. She had expected him to say something to comfort her, but nothing like this. He had never explicitly told her why he loved her, only that she was the perfect dragoness for him. A small smile began making its way onto her face as she sniffled again, her tears starting to dry up on her face.

"I don't care that you hurt me Cynder. I don't care about your dark past. I don't care about what the others might think of you. I don't care about all those evil thoughts you have about yourself. I care about you, and I want to make you happy. Seeing you happy is the greatest thing to me," he said, letting out a choked sob as he spoke.

Cynder hugged him tighter as she listened to what he said. It was as if Spyro knew just what needed to be said to make her feel better about herself and the world.

It made her know that she was loved.

"I would die for you, Cynder," continued Spyro, bringing her out of her thoughts. "I would cross the entire sky just for you. You're all I need in this world to be happy. You set me free so that I could live a full life with you," finished Spyro, tears rolling down his muzzle. His voice broke several times as he struggled with all of his emotions. "If it weren't for you, I never would have been able to defeat Malefor. I'll always take care of you. I'll always love you."

Cynder felt fresh tears roll down her face. This time, though, they were hot tears of joy. She raised her head and gazed into his eyes, the scales beneath slightly puffy and red. His tears reflected the sunlight off his eyes, and she could see her reflection in them. She gazed into his purple eyes, the light from them seeming to shine through the darkness in her heart and free it.

Without warning she tackled him to the ground, her maw against his. Both of them melted into the kiss as they forgot about the world. In that moment nothing existed but them. Their lips closed sealed over each other, and their tongues danced wildly in their muzzles.

Spyro's words echoed themselves over and over in her head:

You're all I need.

I would die for you.

I'll always love you.

Spyro had never opened himself up to her like that before. Sure, they had talked to each other about romance and what it meant for them, but Spyro had never told her why she was so special.

It made her giddy inside that he had told her this. She could always count on Spyro to make her feel better no matter the circumstance.

They stayed in their embrace for what seemed like an eternity. Their muzzles broke apart every once in a while for air, but quickly went back to being entangled with each other. Their tails intertwined again, their wings wrapped around each other. Their hands explored each others bodies, taking in everything. Spyro massaged Cynder's red underbelly as Cynder's paws traced the scales on his shoulders and chest.

Spyro suddenly broke away, much to Cynder's disappointment. Both of them were blushing hard. Spyro nuzzled Cynder lovingly as she watched him with eager eyes. "Come on, we need to start heading back to Warfang or we won't make it there before nightfall," said Spyro.

Cynder reluctantly nodded, picking herself off Spyro after planting a final kiss on his lips. He smiled and got to his feet. He turned to the edge of the rock face and was about to take off when Cynder called his name.

"Spyro?" timidly said Cynder.

Spyro turned around and looked at her. She walked up to him, and could see that there was still some fear in her eyes.

"Just…well… When we get to Warfang," she stammered out. Spyro raised an eye ridge, trying to figure out what she was saying.

"Will you...Will you stay by my side when we get to Warfang? I...I don't want to be alone in the city, especially when people from faraway lands start returning," she pleaded. Spyro draped a wing over her for comfort.

"I'll never leave your side, Cynder. I'll do the best I can to keep the others from hurting you. If you ever feel alone or other dragons say anything mean about you, either find me, Ember, or Flame," he said reassuringly. Cynder nuzzled his chin, feeling the bumps that were new spikes or fins growing there.

"Thank you Spyro. I love you so much," she said. Spyro leaned in and gave her a quick kiss on the lips, making Cynder's heart flutter. She quickly returned the kiss before pulling away, a wide grin on her face.

Spyro smiled back and extended his wings.

"Come on, let's try to find our way back to Warfang." he said.

"But which way is it?" asked Cynder.

"I don't know. We should just start flying in one direction and see if we recognize anything," he replied. Cynder thought it over; if they flew in one direction they would eventually find something that they could use to help them.

Cynder nodded and spread her wings, following Spyro's lead. He turned around and ran to edge of the waterfall before jumping off and letting the cool midday air carry him upwards.

"Whatever you say, my love," whispered Cynder before following his lead and taking to the sky. She quickly caught up to him and the two flew off into the sunset; their journey back to Warfang just beginning. Cynder hoped that it was also the beginning of something much more between her and Spyro.

* * *

_Location Unknown_

_Date Unknown_

_Time: Afternoon_

_..._

The sun was starting to lower itself across the landscape, casting large sections of the forests and valleys below in great shadows from the mountains. Spyro estimated that they would only have another few hours at most before they would have to stop and camp for the night.

Spyro was getting quite tired. His body, still sore from the fight with Malefor, was now aching something terrible. His eyelids drooped every now and then, and he had to shake his head repeatedly just to stay awake. Worse, he hadn't had something to eat since this morning, and now he was incredibly hungry.

He heard wing beats nearby and sleepily turned his head to see Cynder approaching him. Her bleary eyes locked onto his as she neared. She looked quite tired as well, and was struggling to keep up with him. He paid her no mind, thinking that she was just doing her best to catch up to him.

Spyro turned his head and went back to staring at the mountains. They were quite tall, taller than even the Mountain of Malefor. They were craggy and jagged, but the damage looked quite recent. The likeliest reason was that these mountains were reassembled when he brought the world back together.

He was startled out of his thoughts as he heard the sultry voice of Cynder right next to him, having forgotten that she moved closer to him.

"Spyro, I don't recognize any of these landmarks. Are you sure we're going in the right direction?" she asked as she came up to his side. He didn't look at her as he took in her words. She watched him, waiting for an answer, as Spyro began to get the sinking feeling that they were well and truly lost.

After several seconds of contemplation he replied, worry laced in his voice.

"No. I don't know where we are," he said, sounding distant. He swiveled his head from side to side in an attempt to recognize something. Unfortunately, he had never seen this place before on the maps back at the Temple, and nothing similar turned up in his memories.

Cynder noticed how he didn't look her in the eyes, and passed it off as him just trying to concentrate.

He's probably thinking of another route to take, she initially thought, before taking a good look at his body movement. They were sluggish and slow. His wings weren't flapping as hard as they were before and his head and fins were beginning to sag. His eyelids drooped closed before he opened them again and shook his head, letting out a wide yawn.

He's pushing himself too hard, she realized. The exhaustion of the past week had caught up to him. She was already straining to stay awake on the long journey and had already slowed down considerably. But Spyro was still trying to push forward as fast as he could, so determined to reach Warfang that he wasn't thinking about the needs of his body.

He- no, we need to stop and get some rest.

Knowing that he would only stop when he would fall out of the sky Cynder flew in front of him and stopped, hovering in the air.

"Spyro, you're really tired. We should stop and find some food and shelter for the night. We can continue our search for Warfang in the morning," she reasoned. Unfortunately, convincing him to stop and rest would prove to be harder than she initially thought.

"I'll stop when we find Warfang," he replied and tried to fly around her.

Cynder simply flew in front of him again.

"No. Spyro, I know you want to head back to Warfang, but you're about to fall out of the sky. Let's just head over to the bottom of those mountains and make shelter for the night, okay?"

"But Cynder-" he tried to say.

"Spyro, it's okay if we don't find Warfang tonight," Cynder tried to reason, cutting off Spyro.

"I know, but I just really want to at least find something familiar…" he trailed off. Cynder understood that he wanted to find anything that would help them get home, but he just seemed to not be in the right state of mind.

"Damn it Spyro, we need to stop and rest! You're pushing yourself too hard! We're close enough to those mountains that we could find someplace to camp, but we should do it soon," she said, trying to be the voice of reason. Spyro would go to great lengths to achieve a goal, but he would sometimes neglect certain necessities, such as the ones that would keep him alive.

Spyro's gaze moved away from her eyes to back towards the mountains. He needed to know what was beyond them.

Cynder sighed. She just wasn't getting through to him. Fortunately, she had one trick up her sleeve. Unfortunately, it wouldn't be the most pleasant.

"What would Ignitus say?" she asked, and he quickly shifted his gaze to her, slightly shocked that she brought him up.

Spyro just looked into her green eyes before realizing that she was right. He sighed and nodded.

"He-," began Spyro, before taking a deep breath, "-he would say we should stop for the night and rest. Finding Warfang is not as important as staying alive."

Cynder smiled as Spyro started to think reasonably again.

"Besides," she continued, "with Malefor gone we have all the time in the world to find the city, and even do a couple 'things' before we get back," she suggested, a sly grin on her face. She wiggled her body in the air, enticing Spyro.

That brought a smile to Spyro's face. They shouldn't mate just yet, as it could lead to unintended consequences, but there were other... 'activities', they could do in the mean time. Those would have to wait, however, until they found suitable shelter.

"That sounds good," Spyro said gleefully. "But I think we should find shelter first, don't you?"

Cynder nodded, elated that Spyro agreed with her.

"Follow me," she said, and pointed towards the edge of the mountain. "There should be a good spot to rest somewhere near the base."

She watched as Spyro yawned and nodded at the same time. He blinked his eyes a couple times, wings flapping a little harder to keep him upright.

"I'll let you lead," he yawned again. Cynder gazed at him again before turning around and heading off towards the mountains. Spyro quickly followed, and the two sped towards the mountain base. The forests below flew by as the two hurried to the mountain base before the dark settled in.

They pushed themselves to their limits, tired as the were. It wasn't easy, but they managed. As they flew along Cynder scanned the forests below to try and find a good place to stop and rest for the night. Spyro followed behind her, simply keeping track of where she was and making sure that he didn't lose sight of her.

As they neared the mountains a weird feeling came over Spyro. He felt a weird tugging sensation on his mind, one that seemed to be telling him to land there and look somewhere for something. It felt like something was trying to pull his thoughts towards a location somewhere in the mountains. While it didn't cause him to pass out, it certainly felt like the times when the Chronicler would try and contact him.

He ignored it for now, doing his best to follow the black dragoness in front of him. It was easy to spot her, as her ebony scales stood out against the orange sky. He realized that he had fallen slightly behind and quickly sped up to reach her.

Nearly an hour of flying later Cynder saw a good clearing between the tall forest and the base of one of the mountains. Looking closely she could see a small stream nearby that seemed to flow down from the ice caps of the mountain and into the forest.

She smiled; they could finally stop and eat, drink, and rest for the night. She stopped flying for a moment to hover and turned around to see Spyro coming towards her.

"Hey Spyro!" she called out. He snapped his head to her position and sped forward, eager to reach her. "I found a good place to stop for the night!"

"Alright!" he yelled happily in response as he neared. He arrived several seconds later, panting heavily from the taxation of flying. It would be nice to land and rest his sore, aching wings.

"Follow me," said Cynder, before turning and diving down towards the ground below. Spyro watched as she gracefully flew through the air, her body twisting and turning to get a better flow of air beneath her wings.

She's so wonderful, he thought, his heart pounding at the sight of her flying. The fact that she loved him made the feeling that much sweeter.

He dove after her and watched as she flew in several wide circles around a large grassy field, dotted with various types of flowers and plants. He glided down to her level and scanned the area below him checking for anything out of the ordinary. He saw nothing, and felt a large amount of relief in his chest.

They gently landed on the ground, aching wings happy that they didn't need to be used for the rest of the night. They walked together to a nice, open area that had a good view of the sky above them. After marking the area with a large pile of rocks, the two walked over to the nearby stream and took a nice, long drink of cold spring water.

The water went down nicely, feeling greatly refreshing for their parched bodies. They lay down together at the edge of the stream, their wings folded over each other. Cynder leaned her head on Spyro's shoulder, and they took in the beautiful moment.

They remained this way for several minutes until they heard the tell-tale grumbling sound of Spyro's stomach. They both laughed at the noise and decided to head into the forest to get some food.

They entered the forest as the sun continued to descend through the sky. It turned a beautiful orange and purple color, and the pair couldn't help but admire it. They padded into the forest and began looking around for food.

They didn't have much luck finding food in the forest. They had found a couple berry bushes and several delicious fruits which Spyro had gobbled down, but it just wasn't enough to satisfy two teenage dragons.

Eventually, the two rounded a large boulder in the forest. Looking ahead they could see where the mountain started. Trees and grass gave way to unyielding stone that went high up into the sky.

As they entered the edge of the forest, however, that tugging feeling came back to Spyro. This time, though, it was stronger than before. The first time it felt like a gentle pulling on his mind. Now it felt like something was yanking on his head.

He couldn't ignore it this time, and began to go where the pulling was 'dragging' him to. Cynder noticed him begin to walk towards the base of the mountain, scaring off several animals that they could've eaten.

Confused, she hurried after him.

"Spyro!" she called out. She was confused when he didn't respond. Catching up to him she saw that there was a blank look in his eyes, as if his mind wasn't there.

"Spyro?" she said, worry evident in her tone. He stopped moving, but didn't look at her. She walked around in front of him stared him straight in the eyes.

"Come on Spyro, this isn't funny!" she exclaimed in his face. He blinked a couple times before the color seemed to return to his eyes. He shook his head and noticed that Cynder was directly staring into his eyes.

"Sorry Cynder. I just had this weird sensation in my head that told me to come over to this area," he explained. Cynder frowned; what was powerful enough to cause Spyro to lose focus like that?

"What was it exactly?" she asked.

"It was like a… pulling sensation directed at my mind. It felt like my thoughts and ideas were being tugged away from me and towards here: whatever this is," he said as he looked up at the rock face in front of him.

"Well whatever it was it made you scare away the animals," said Cynder, looking over the field. Spyro followed her gaze and saw that her words were true. All the creatures that were present in the field before had disappeared.

"Sorry," apologized Spyro, a sheepish look on his face.

"It's okay," sighed Cynder. "It's just gonna be harder to get some food now," she said.

When Spyro didn't reply Cynder turned her head back to look at him. That blank look was present again, and Spyro began walking forward. Realizing that she wouldn't be able to get him to stop, Cynder just followed him.

His path lead them right to the stone that made up the towering mountain above them. They leapt over a stream that wound through the valley and up to a giant stone that sat in the mountain. As they neared the ground turned from grass to dirt to sand to small rocks. Cynder tread carefully, trying not to get any rocks stuck in her paw pads while Spyro just clambered over anything in his way.

They stopped right in front of the stone. Looking around, Cynder noticed that it seemed to be out of place with the rocks around it, as if someone had placed it there. While the other rocks were either jagged or rough, this one was quite smooth. It was tall: around the height of Terrador, who himself stood nearly 24 feet tall.

Cynder stood back as Spyro stepped forward. As he did Cynder noticed that hundreds of small symbols that weren't visible before began glowing purple in a trail. It began at the top of the stone and traveled down it. Spyro raised his paw and held it out in front of the stone, and the symbols seemed to swirl around his paw.

Cynder quickly walked up to him and grabbed his paw, causing the symbols to disappear. Spyro snapped out of his trance at her touch and turned his head to look at her.

"What?" he asked, confused as to why she stopped him.

"Spyro, I don't like this. This stone could be holding something incredibly dangerous inside, or worse!" she stated, staring deeply into his eyes.

Spyro pulled his paw out of Cynder's grasp.

"Cynder, it's okay. That feeling is telling me to touch the stone. It doesn't feel malevolent. It feels… ancient, really," he said. Cynder shifted her gaze away from him and stared at the floor.

"I know, it's just…" she trailed off. She sighed, calming herself down. "I just don't want you to get hurt from this."

She felt Spyro's paw gently grab her chin and lifting her muzzle so that she was looking into his eyes. He smiled sweetly, warming her heart.

"It'll be okay Cynder. We'll be fine. Besides, if something does come out, we have each other to rely on," Spyro said. Cynder reluctantly nodded, and they both turned back to the stone.

Spyro reached out to it once more and the symbols lit up again. They danced around and on top of his paw as he touched the stone. It felt warm and energetic underneath his scales, but there was some sort of old feeling to it as well.

All of a sudden, Spyro felt a massive bolt of energy travel from the stone, through his scales, up his paw, down his spine, and surge throughout his body. Stars danced in his eyes as every one of his nerves felt as if they were on fire. There was no pain though, oddly enough.

The tugging sensation returned, far stronger than before. Yet unlike before it felt as if his mind was being both pulled and pushed at the same time. There was an intense pressure in his head as he felt something worm and twist it's way into his mind.

'The last purple dragon will die when the ashes of the fallen God are returned' said the thing in his head. He didn't know what it was, but he didn't like it.

He heard a scream as pain erupted throughout his body, igniting his nerves and making him spasm. Elements of different types, including ones that he hadn't ever felt before, were fired out of his body in all directions. As the scream continued, it took him a second before he realized that it was his scream.

Back in the forest, giant flocks of birds erupted from the trees and into the sky as smaller creatures scurried along the ground and away from the spectacle.

There was another, higher pitched scream to his right. In pain, Spyro turned to see Cynder writhing on the ground, the energy having traveled through him and into her. Cynder's main elements shot out of her body, followed by others he had never seen before. He saw a beam of light and a flash of purple shoot out of her body before he closed his eyes in pain.

He tried to step towards the fallen dragoness, but his limbs wouldn't move.

Grimacing, he looked back at the stone and watched as a massive crack split it down the middle. Hundreds of smaller cracks crawled on it as purple light began bursting through the seems.

He felt the energy begin to travel back out of his body and back into the stone as it continued to crack. Looking down he watched as a golden and purple light flowed out of his body and into the boulder. The sensation in his head began to deteriorate as the unknown entity receded into the dark recesses of his mind.

Straining to look at Cynder he saw a red, white, and black light coursing from her body and into the stone. The colors concentrated in the center of the stone where Spyro had touched it and began swirling around.

The shattered into a thousand pieces, each of them glowing a different color before vanishing into the air.

The valley was silent, save for the heavy breathing of the two dragons. Spyro turned to see Cynder wobbling as she rose to her feet.

"What- What just happened?" he asked aloud, still unsure at the series of what just occurred. He had never seen anything like that in his travels before.

"I don't know. That experience was definitely not pleasant though." replied Cynder, padding up next to him.

"Whatever it was, it seems to have opened up a doorway into the mountain," noted Spyro. Cynder looked to where the stone used to stand, only to see a pathway leading into the mountain. The same glowing symbols that had been on the stone now made an arch over the entryway.

"Where do you think it leads?" Cynder asked. Spyro shrugged his wings and got to his feet. Standing up he noticed that the entrance into the mountain was very dark, and he felt a shiver go down his spine as he thought about what could be inside. An ancient treasure? A fierce creature that would try to kill them?

A way to get home?

"Why don't we go find out?" Spyro replied with a grin. He was always looking for a fun adventure, and this was the perfect opportunity to go exploring. He forgot all about being hungry earlier: hunger was replaced by the fear of what happened earlier, but he still wanted to go explore this cave.

Come on!" he said. Bouncing to his feet he began walking to opening. Cynder groaned, but nevertheless she stood up and followed Spyro to the opening of the cave.

* * *

"They found the temple. You know what lies in there."

"I do. Which is why we must perform the act that has been performed on all the other purple dragons before him."

"Are you sure that is wise? Don't you think it might be better to not hinder him in such a way, especially since it is coming?"

"I have changed the effect to benefit him, and his mate-to-be. They will both receive powers; powers that will hopefully lead them and this world to victory."

"I hope it will be enough. When it arrives on our plane we will have little time to carry out our plan."

"It will be. And you know of our back-up plan, should we fail."

"I certainly hope it doesn't come to that."

"Is there something on your mind?"

"I worry about those two. We have already messed with their lives enough, and now this? Can't we at least give them some free time, even just one or two years?"

"There is no time. It would be nice to give them time to do what they want, but they need to prepare. Especially Spyro; he must know what the true purpose of the purple dragon is."

"Very well. But promise me: when this is over, those two will lead happy lives. They've earned it."

"I will do my best, but I can't promise anything. You know how it can change things."

"So, what now?

"We need to ready ourselves and our children for the oncoming storm. Come; the others are requesting a meeting. We should go before they get impatient."

* * *

**...And that's a wrap. Please tell me what you think. It really helps me as a writer.**

**Next chapter will hopefully be coming out soon, so stay tuned for more!**


	3. A1: C2: Chamber of the Lost

**A/N: Alright, here we are with chapter 2! This is where things get interesting.**

**I'm introducing a new system into this story. I'm going to add superscript numbers (e.g. 1 or 2) for points in the story where you should find and listen to certain songs to enhance the reading. I'll number the songs at the beginning of each chapter so you know which ones to listen to.**

**Music for this chapter:**

**1\. Dungeon 1 - Fate PC soundtrack**

**2\. Aliens - Neil Davidge (Main Theme)**

**3\. Soulseeker - Thomas Bergerson**

**Not much else to say, other than thank you to everyone who has been reading the story.**

**Disclaimer: TLoS and its characters belong to Activision.**

**I own the plot.**

**Now onto the chapter!**

* * *

_Location Unknown_

_Date Unknown_

_Time: Late Afternoon_

_..._

Spyro and Cynder stood at the entrance of the cave, peering down into the darkness. Sunlight streamed into the opening, illuminating walls which hadn't seen light in a very long time. Dust was thickly layered over the walls and ceiling, hiding the faded and worn colors beneath.

A foreboding feeling came over the two dragons, one they hadn't felt since their fight with Malefor.

Spyro nudged Cynder with his tail. "Let's go check it out!" He said excitedly to the dragoness.

Together they stepped into the mountain, and a chill ran down their spines at the sudden change in temperature. A damp feeling spread across their scales as they padded onto the stone platform.

Looking down, they could see the passage was lined with moldy steps. Small rocks and debris were strewn about the corridor. Time had not been considerate to this ancient hall.

Rather worrisome was the fact that the darkness swallowed everything after the tenth visible step. Though a dragon's night vision was superb, not even they could see very well in this blackness.

Cynder opened her mouth, about to ask Spyro how they were going to see, when she heard a small hum as a pair of torches on either side of them suddenly lt. Both dragons looked at the torches and realized that instead of sticks of wood wrapped in cloth, these lights were floating crystals that glowed in their presence.

The yellow glow from the crystals illuminated patterns and designs on the walls neither of the dragons noticed, which began glowing in the dark.

As they walked the crystals behind them stopped glowing as the pair in front lit up. Moving down the long hallway they began to notice symbols similar to the ones on the stone lining the walls. They curved and flowed as if they had a mind of their own, forming patterns of dragons, cities, and unusual creatures.

"What is this place?" Cynder asked. She had never seen anything like this before, even as her time as a servant of the Dark Master.

"I don't know, but… it feels like there's some sort of," Spyro paused, trying to find the right words, "presence, in here."

As they moved through the corridor, a light in the dark appeared far down the passage. It was very faint, but still light enough that they could see it.

The light got brighter as they descended deeper and deeper into the cave. The torches were now changing colors: before it had been yellow, but now it changed to purple. The symbols on the walls danced in various forms and shapes, sometimes

even jumping from wall to wall.

They noticed a subtle changed as they continued down the steps. It had gone being rough, jagged granite to a smooth, curvaceous obsidian. The hall felt fresher, more modern and more sacred.

Cynder shivered as she felt something press against her mind. It felt dark and angry, but at the same time it felt happy and light. It was as it could not decide what to be as it shifted back and forth, both wanting in.

"Spyro, that presence you felt as you entered? I feel it too," she said. Spyro curious, looked at her. She was staring off into space, but was able to walk down the steps without tripping.

"Hmm," he murmured before turning back to looking at the light at the end of the hall.

Feeling like the entity was trying to tell her something, Cynder let a tiny part of it slip into her head. It felt warm and cold, good and evil, forever and never at the same time. She felt afraid as it slithered into her head, but it suddenly changed to a joyful feeling as it sensed them. She relaxed, curious about what the entity would do. It seemed to curl up in a corner of her mind, and she let it be.

The entity seemed peaceful now, but Cynder was not.

She and Spyro were at the last pair of torches, the symbols having long disappeared. The walls, ceiling, and floor were made of the same smooth obsidian as before. The white light, now revealed to be a crystal, hovered above the ground about 20 feet in front of them. It was transparent, with an otherworldly light encased inside. Oddly enough, though the light was a bright white it didn't reflect off any surface.

The room was pitch black. The only thing that they could see was the light and the ground below below it. Both dragons shivered at the thought of what else could be in the room. Spyro saw Cynder turn and look at him, clearly unsettled.

"You okay Cynder?" he asked. She shook her head.

"No. I don't like this place Spyro. It gives me the creeps."

"It'll be okay Cynder. Trust me," the purple dragon encouraged. "We'll do the last step at the same time, okay?"

Cynder nodded again, her confidence reappearing. She took a deep breath, calming her nerves.

"On three" said Spyro, still watching Cynder. She had her eyes focused on the floor below, paw raised in anticipation.

"One."

"Two."

"Three."

At the same time both dragons stepped onto the floor. Instantly, swirls of colors flowed through the ground; the same purple and gold from Spyro and red, white and black from Cynder. The swirls turned into streaks of light as they zipped through the ground.

They bounced off what seemed to be edges of the floor before converging back towards the light. As the streaks neared they circled the light and were drawn into it, making the light pulse.

Spyro and Cynder slowly sauntered across the floor, each step sending more streaks of colors off towards the crystal. The light inside the crystal grew brighter as they approached. The duo circled the crystal on opposite sides, studying it intensely. It was diamond-shaped, with wisps of different colors of light floating off of it. It hovered a seven feet off the ground, shoulder-height for both dragons, slowly rotating clockwise.

When both dragons came back together they looked at each other and nodded, knowing what to do. It reminded them of gem clusters, where just pressing their paws against the crystal would give them a surge of energy.

They stood up on their hind legs, forelegs outstretched, and put their paws against the crystal light. Like before with the stone they felt a massive surge of energy course through their bodies. This time though the energy felt calm and relaxing as the entities inside their heads squirmed. The light inside the crystal pulsed outwards in intervals as it rapidly changed colors.

Both dragons quickly took their paws off the crystal and backed away, watching as it began to rise higher off the ground. The light inside the crystal pulsed faster and faster, cracks appearing on the exterior of the crystal. Streams of light began shooting out of the crystal, illuminating sections of the room.

With a loud crash the crystal suddenly exploded, revealing the light inside. Spyro and Cynder watched as it shot upwards into the ceiling where it settled into a small enclosure.

They watched in rapt fascination as the room was suddenly lit up by golden light flowing through lines in the walls. The lines traced around the chamber, creating five large rectangles. Colors of all types flowed into the boxes as the room was fully revealed to them. It was suddenly as bright as day as the light descended back down to hover off the floor. The pieces of the crystal rose up and formed around the light, returning it to its previous light. A pedestal rose up from the ground, and the crystal floated down to rest in it.

The circular chamber was large, larger than that of the training room of the Temple. Looking around, the two saw that the walls were lined with pictures and murals. Statues of dragons and beings some other race were placed around the room, rising up above the young dragons.

A large door appeared opposite the stairs; a statue of a large, ape-like creature covered in armor was placed right over it. It was holding a massive sword, wider than Spyro was tall, and painted in a gold, black, red, purple, and white.

Both dragons began walking around the room, staring at the numerous paintings that adorned the walls. The edges of the frames were made of lights that subtly changed color.

"What is this place?" Spyro pondered aloud, eyes darting over the pictures and statues. Cynder didn't respond, too caught in the paintings to think about what he said.

"Maybe a temple? I mean, that weird statue over that doorway looks like it's supposed to be honoring something…" Spyro trailed off as he realized that Cynder was more interested in the images than what he had to say. He shrugged his wings and began wandering around the room.

One painting in particular caught Cynder's eye. The colors in the frame swirled and moved on their own accord, and there seemed to be layers to the image, making it almost three dimensional. It was very much unlike the paintings she had seen in the Temple and in buildings in Warfang, which looked flat. She peered around the side of the light-frame, trying to see how the layers were stacked, when she noticed that the entire frame was extremely thin.

Confused, she reached out with a claw to touch the frame but quickly retracted it when she felt a large tingling sensation in her paw. Shrugging, she simply concluded that it worked via magic and turned back to the painting.

She frowned as she stared at it, unable to understand what it was portraying. It made less sense than the width of the painting, if that was possible.

"Hey Spyro!" called Cynder. Spyro, who was checking out a statue of an ancient dragon decked with battle armor, gazed over to her when he heard her call him.

"What?" he asked.

"Come check this out!" she said. Spyro could hear the excitement and confusion in her voice, and was curious as to what could cause that. He padded over to her, eyeing a statue of one of those strange creatures on his way.

He came up next to her, noticing her intensely staring at the painting in front of them. Following her gaze, he found out why.

Aside from it being a layered painting, Spyro found that what it depicted was something out of a fantasy. In the picture was a massive city that was built into the side of a mountain. Large, grassy fields surrounded it, and giant waterfalls spilled on either side and far down to the ground. It reminded him of Warfang, but this city was much, much bigger.

In the background, dozens of dragons of all colors flew through the blue sky, soaring on open wings and warm thermals. A bright yellow sun shone down upon the land, bathing it in it's warming light.

On the grasses stood a creature that looked like the statues in the room. It looked like an ape, and was clearly bipedal; it's legs didn't hook back like many species of this world. Spyro couldn't see much more, as the creature was wearing a heavy suit of armor, a scabbard on its hip with a shield, bow, and quiver strapped to its back. It's armor was black with a golden trim along the edges and straps. It stood tall and proud with its sword raised into the air, a golden energy sparkling off it. A red cape with the same golden trim billowed out behind the creature.

Behind it stood four of the same creatures, but these were wearing silver and red armor instead of black and gold. They carried large shields that seemed to give off an aura of strength. Large swords were strapped to their backs, which, combined with their strong, angular looking armor gave them a fierce look.

In front of it was a giant dragon, easily three times as tall as the creature. The dragon's thick scales were a midnight black, while the chest scales were an ashen gray. Numerous spikes ran up and down it's back, and it lacked a distinctive tail blade that was just replaced with more spikes. A pair of large horns curved backwards with cheek fins and horns spreading out on either of it's face. The fins were ragged and torn.

The dragon wore silver jewelry around it's neck, chest, and legs with numerous jewels placed in them. A massive yellow cape flowed behind the dragon. A golden crown adorned the dragon's skull, and its face was opened in a wide smile that revealed it maw filled with razor-sharp teeth.

Painted around the creature and the dragon were hundreds of members of both species. Dragons of all shapes and sizes were mixed in with the smaller ape-like creatures wearing clothing similar to that of many species on Aslore. They cradled infants and held children as they looked onward at the scene.

Spyro was confused at the image: he had never heard of anything like this before in the history of dragonkind. During what time he had at the Temple and in Warfang between training and spending time with Cynder was used to study the ancient history of the Dragon race. He had gone over tomes and tomes filled with information about where dragons came from and ancient empires, reading about pacts, wars, and famous discoveries. Unfortunately, because of the sheer amount of time Dragons had been present on the planet meant that a lot of it had been lost over the ages. The farthest back he found anything was from the 51st age, around 130,000 years ago.

As Spyro studied the image Cynder looked around the frame to find anything describing the painting. Giving it a brief look over she noticed a small box hovering a few inches away from the frame.

She tapped it, not knowing how she knew to do that, and the box quickly enlarged until she was able to read it. There wasn't very much; just two lines of text. Unfortunately, she found that she couldn't read it, the language long since dead.

Which was why she was very surprised as the characters suddenly started shifting form and shape until she was able to read them in modern Draconic.

Her eyes read over it, before widening and reading over again and again.

"Spyro?" she said, not taking her eyes off the placard. Spyro didn't look away from the painting as he heard his voice being called.

"What?" he replied.

"Look at this," she said, her voice expressing disbelief at something she found.

Spyro tore his gaze away from the painting and stepped over to Cynder. She was looking at a box with some foreign text on it.

"What'd you find?" he asked. Cynder stepped to the side and motioned towards the box with her wing.

"Read this," she simply replied. She stepped aside and Spyro walked closer to the box. Upon looking it over he found that he couldn't read the foreign letters. He furrowed his brow, confused, and looked over at Cynder who was already checking out another painting.

"What does it say?. It's some ancient mix of Draconic and Lartian," he said, gesturing at the words with one of his claws.

"Just keep watching it," she answered, too focused on the other painting to come over and show him.

Grumbling under his breath, Spyro turned his head back and looked at the letters again. After a couple seconds they started to morph into a more modern form of Draconic, one he could actually read.

_The Merging of Empires_

_24th of Exard, Season of Fire, 2302, 28th age._

"'The Merging of Empires'? 28th age? That can't be right," he mumbled. Any and all information about the 28th age had been lost a very long time ago in a massive war that had nearly destroyed Aslore itself. If he remembered correctly, it was currently the 77th age; this meant that what was depicted in the painting had happened over 245,000 years ago!

Excited by this news, he began walking around the room, looking at the other boxes and the descriptions on them.

_Creation of the Dragonriders_

_3rd of Qlist, Season of Earth, 1882, 29th age_

_Burning of Warfang_

_12th of Ikall, 31st age, 47, 33rd age_

_War for Avalar_

_31st of Exard, Season Fire, 702, 37th age._

_Final Flight of the Dragonriders_

_21st of Karis, Season of Ice, 4999, 39th age._

The names of the paintings astounded him. Dragonriders? What were those? And Warfang burning? Was that why there were those large ruins underneath the actual city?

Curious, he walked back over to the picture title Creation of the Dragonriders, noticing Cynder staring at the one about the War for Avalar. He would look at that one too, but right now he needed to know something: what creature in their right mind would be allowed to ride on a dragon?

He walked up to the image, noting that, like the others, it was layered. What caught his attention was that the dragon in the painting had one of those creatures in the previous painting on it's back right where the neck met the torso. It was holding a golden staff with a red colored gem on one end in the sky as it's other hand or paw held onto one of the dragon's spikes.

Spyro determined that the dragon was male by its body shape. The dragon's primary scales were a dark red color that were mottled with dark spots. Dark horns and spikes ran along his body, and his muscles bulged underneath the scales. The plates on his chest were a deep orange color with many of them cracked and bruised. He must have been in many battles, thought spyro. His wings were spread out, revealing large tears and holes in the brown membrane. He lacked a tail blade, but instead had spikes running up and down either side of his tail.

Why do these dragons lack tail blades? Did they only appear recently? wondered Spyro. He had been taught about evolution and how all species had undergone it at some point. Did modern dragons evolve from these ones to be smaller and have tail blades?

Spyro moved these questions aside as he went back to staring at the picture. The dragon's mouth was opened wide in a roar, his eyes glowing a bright blood-red. There was a scarlet aura around him and the creature with the staff. The dragon himself was standing on his hind legs; forelegs wreathed in flames as he slashed them through the air.

Spyro shifted his gaze to look at the creature. It wore armor, but it looked less bulky and more slim unlike the other armor he had seen. It had a very similar color to the other sets of silver and a gold and black trim along the edges. Glowing lines of red ran along seams and edges in the armor, making it look as if a fire was about to erupt from the creature.

The armor was covered by a set of black tattered robes with the same trim of gold. The robes draped down over the scales of the dragon, clashing with the dark red of the dragon's hide. Spyro could faintly see a sword secured to its waist, but his attention was focused on the staff the creature was holding.

The staff had intricate, angular designs running up and down its length and accented with swirls of color. The gem at the top of the staff had a floating ring of smaller multi colored gems around it.

Done with taking an in-depth look at the dragon and the creature on top of it, Spyro took a look at the background. The sky was filled with dark clouds that blotted out the sun. The dragon was on a patch of stone surrounded by grass with bodies of those same creatures on the ground. He noticed weird blobs and forms around the dragon and the creature on top. He realized that the two were surrounded by large, primitive looking grublins and other weird creatures.

He sat down on his haunches, trying to figure out what the picture portrayed. From the part of the title where it said Dragonrider he figured that it must be showing something about the creature riding the the dragon.

What's so special about a creature riding a dragon? Are they increasing their abilities? Do they form a connection or a bond or something?

He thought about it for a while, but with no other information he gave up trying to figure it out. He gave a quiet sigh before turning to go look at another picture. As he walked across the chamber to another picture his eyes caught a faint white line carved into the rock to his right.

Intrigued, he diverted his attention from the picture and walked over to it. As he did he began to notice the broken edges of a frame hovering in the air. These too were made of light, but were small enough that one had to be quite close in order to see it.

Where's the picture? And the description, for that matter? he wondered. Looking around he eventually found the description, but it wasn't in good shape. Somehow the light around it had broken off, leaving the name and date cut off half-way.

_Death of So-_

_31st of Karis, Seas-_

Who would want to remove the image? And why?

Looking up from the description he saw a phrase carved into the obsidian. Looking closer, he realized why he hadn't originally noticed it at first. It was an optical illusion. The phrase only appeared if one looked at it from the right angle and perspective. Otherwise it just appeared to be random lines etched into the rock with no meaning.

He had to tell Cynder about this.

"Cynder? You're gonna want to check this out," he said, Cynder looked up from the image she was gazing at and walked over to Spyro, confused. She walked around the multi-colored pedestal holding the light and saw him staring at the wall. She followed his gaze to the hard obsidian, but only saw some lines engraved into the rock.

She gave Spyro a funny look, not understanding what he was trying to show her. There wasn't anything there.

"Did you hit your head or something Spyro? There's nothing there but a wall," she said. Spyro shook his head, not minding the slight insult.

"Just come over here," he said. Cynder complied, unsure as to what was going on. She padded over to Spyro, neither of them noticing a slight gleam coming from the sword in the statue behind them.

Spyro moved to the side as she neared.

"Stand where I was standing and look straight ahead," he instructed, pointing to the wall in front of them. Cynder nodded and shifted her gaze to where Spyro pointed.

As she looked at the wall from a new perspective, she realized that the lines she had seen in the rock before actually fit together to say something! Squinting, she made out the group of words carved into the rock.

"And though I die a thousand deaths, I will be the salvation of worlds."

"Huh?" she said, bewildered by the words. A thousand deaths? Salvation of worlds? What did it mean? And why was it behind the place where a picture would have been?

Cynder asked herself these questions as she looked over the expression again. As she did this Spyro decided to take a look at the other places where gaps were present between pictures. Walking over to the nearest break between images he looked around for the description until he found it lying it on the floor.

Odd, he thought. Usually the descriptions are floating and are made of light. This description was carved into wood, but was heavily burnt. Like the other description box, it was also broken in half.

_The Exile of-_

_1st of Aas, Se-_

This place was raising large numbers of questions. Who was exiled? Why? Was it just one person, or a group of people?

Spyro looked up at the wall to see if there was another carving. Sure enough, there was. This one was more of an omen than the last one, however.

"The Masters of Warfare will return when the greatest threat to Creation comes to Aslore."

"This is so weird," commented Spyro, hoping that Cynder was listening to him.

"I mean, what's up with these phrases etched into the walls? Why are some images missing? What are these paintings showing?

He went looking around at all the areas where there was a missing image. He didn't even bother looking at the description and went straight to looking at the etchings.

"The Ancients will fly once more when their call is answered."

"We are left to hold out against the Tide."

All of them were just omens and prophecies about something. Of what, Spyro couldn't figure out. This place just didn't make sense to him. Who built it? Why? What was it's purpose? How did they get all this magic working?

Done with looking at omens, he was about to check out another painting when he noticed an unusual red glint out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head towards the weird light, thinking it was another frame of sorts, when he saw glowing red lines begin to take shape on the wall. These weren't carved in, and seemed to just appear out of nowhere.

The lines began gathering together, creating letters and words to form another phrase that he hadn't seen before. It was small in size compared to the other phrases, only taking up a small section of the wall.

His eyes widened in surprise as read the words.

"When the final purple dragon of legend is slain and the black beast of the skies is taken the War of the Realms will truly begin."

"Purple dragon slain and black beast taken" whispered Spyro.

Is this about me? And Cynder? Am I the last purple dragon?

"Am I going to die?" he quietly asked himself. Cynder heard him speak quietly to himself and craned her head to peer at him. He was staring at another wall with a phrase written on it.

"Did you say something?" she asked.

"Hmm? Oh no, just thinking out loud," replied the purple dragon, shaking his head. "I'm just thinking about what this place could be."

Cynder turned back to the painting she was looking at, not entirely convinced Spyro was telling the truth. Still, she couldn't do much about it. If there was something he was hiding from her he would eventually tell her one way or another. Trying to get him to talk about it now would prove fruitless; he would just say deny that he said anything important.

Cynder shook these thoughts from her head and went back to looking at the painting in front of her.

Meanwhile, Spyro rubbed his neck as he tried to come up with a way to hide the prophecy written on the wall. He tried to rub it off with his paws but found that it was actually made of light. He blinked, not understanding how that worked. He turned his head around to look at Cynder and found that she was still looking at the same painting.

He turned back and was startled to find that the prophecy had disappeared. He looked around to see if it was somewhere else, but it had just vanished as quickly as it appeared.

He hoped that he would never have to tell Cynder about that prophecy. Though she would deny it and say that prophecy could be overwritten, he wasn't so sure. It would be better for her to not know about it if it came to pass. She would try to anticipate it and stop it from happening, but usually prophecies came to pass no matter what.

He was about to go check out another painting when his stomach growled loudly. Cynder yelped, startled by the sound. She glared over at Spyro who gave her a sheepish expression.

"I guess we should go back to our original task of getting food, don't you think?" she smirked.

"Yeah, I guess so. But this place is so interesting. Why is it here? What's it's purpose?" wondered Spyro. Cynder deadpanned as he rattled off questions.

"Has the electricity gone to your head and turned you into Volteer? You're turning into a blabber mouth like him," she said, joking. Spyro quickly stopped talking as both of their stomachs grumbled.

"We've held off food for way too long. Let's go get some before it gets too dark," said Cynder, earning a nod from Spyro.

"We should come back here some time. Maybe we could bring some others with us as well," said Spyro. Cynder didn't reply, already on her way to the pathway leading back to the valley. Spyro looked around the room one last time, his eyes slowly trailing over the glowing crystal in the center of the chamber before he too began walking to the pathway.

But fate apparently didn't want him to do that.

As his paw touched the first step he felt the pulling sensation from before return in force. This time it felt like his head was being ripped off his body. He grunted in slight pain and took his paw off the first step.

'You WILL retrieve the gem!' yelled the presence in his head. It seemed to rise up from the depths of his mind and command him to turn around.

Hearing his grunt Cynder turned and looked back at him. This was getting ridiculous.

"Ugh, what is your problem?" she said, clearly annoyed. The hours of flying and lack of food had made her quite irritable, and she really wanted to leave this place. A sense of déjà vu passed through her as she spoke those words, reminding her of when she and Spyro were chained together in the grublin lair.

She saw as his head seemed to be pulled backwards by an unseen force. He fell to the ground with a thud before getting up and putting a paw on his forehead.

"That sensation from before: it's telling me that I have to retrieve a gem," explained Spyro. Cynder gave a huff of annoyance.

"Fine," she snapped at him. "But let's hurry. I'm really hungry, and this isn't helping."

She turned around on the steps and walked back down into the room.

Spyro groaned as he felt the pressure increase in his head, the presence telling him to start walking. He got to his feet and began ambling towards the crystal in the center of the room. He stopped in front of it and raised his paw into the air, ready to try and take it from the pedestal.

'NO, you fool!' the presence boomed in his head, causing Spyro to yelp and fall onto his back again. 'The crystal in the statue at the back of the chamber.'

Spyro shifted to the right of the crystal and peered at the statue of the large, unknown creature in the back of the room. Following the orders of the voice he walked over to it, never once taking his eyes off of it. As he got closer he realized that it was similar to the creature in the first picture.

'Touch the sword!' Spyro flinched as the words seemed to grind against something in his head.

Cynder watched as Spyro stood in front of the statue for several seconds. She cleared her throat, about to tell him to hurry up when she saw him visibly flinch.

He raised his paw and pressed it against the sword. It began to glow purple before before changing to gold and then back to purple. Just as suddenly as the glowing began it stopped, and the sword went back to it's natural color.

Suddenly, light erupted from the sword, traveled through Spyro, and hitting the the larger crystal. The crystal absorbed the light and began to rapidly change to different colors of the rainbow. Both dragons watched as the crystal suddenly cracked down the middle. The cracks began spreading throughout the crystal, bright beams of light began bursting through the fissures.

The dragons heard a dark whispering in their heads as the crystal continued cracking, the light coming from it now blinding. They turned their heads and blocked the light with their wings as a loud crash was heard. The light in the chamber died down, and when the two looked back at the pedestal they found the large crystal was gone. Instead, a smaller crystal with that same inner light had taken it's place.

It floated up into the air. The new crystal was small, four-sided, and looked like a rectangle with two pyramids attached to either end. The crystal was a translucent purple, and the inner light continued to glow a bright white.

The crystal bobbed up and down in the air, slowly spinning clockwise. Curious as to what it was, Spyro took a step towards it. The crystal reacted to his presence, and suddenly began to pick up speed as it spun around. It started shooting out small orbs of different colored light that bounced around the room before homing in on the two dragons.

Cynder took a small step back as she watched her body absorb several orbs of light. Some of them were purple while others were a more dark yellow color. As the light passed into her body she felt a sudden surge of energy. It made her feel like she could take on everything in the world, like she was unstoppable.

Images she couldn't make out flashed through her head as she heard noises coming from all around her. She clutched her head in pain. After an agonizing several seconds the headache disappeared.

What was that all about? she wondered. And why do I feel more energetic than before?

Spyro stood up as the energy surge dissipated from him as well. He shook his head, removing the last vestiges of pain, and got to his feet. He turned his focus back to the crystal on the pedestal. It had stopped hovering, and was now resting comfortably in a small groove. He fell into a sort of trance as he gazed at it, and began walking towards it.

Cynder looked on as Spyro neared the crystal. It rose up into the air as Spyro stopped a foot away from the crystal, watching it change from purple to black to white. He took another step towards the mesmerizing crystal. Entranced by the crystal, he didn't notice as Cynder padded up next to him. Cynder stared at the crystal for a couple seconds before looking at Spyro, noticing that his expression hadn't changed.

"Ahem," Cynder cleared her throat. Spyro's head shot up and he jumped. Cynder was glaring at him, and he gave her another one of his sheepish smiles. Cynder simply rolled her eyes as he stepped back over to her.

"Sorry about that," he said. Cynder shook her head; not because she was disappointed, but because she was quite tired of him taking too long. That small energy boost she had felt only minutes before had waned off by now, and she went back to feeling quite crabby. Tired, sore and hungry there was nothing more she wanted to do right now than leave this place.

She snorted, black smoke escaping from her nostrils. Spyro got the message, and reached out to grab the crystal. He could feel large amounts of heat emanating off of it, but he didn't let it deter him.

As his paw wrapped around the crystal he felt multiple sensations rush through his body, and none of them were pleasant. All at once it felt as if he was on fire, electrocuted with lightening, crushed by the earth, and frozen solid. All at once it felt like his worst fears were coming to life, poison rushed through his veins, shadows consumed him, he was drowning in deep water. The darkness inside him fought against the light, and convexity struggled against the very essence of life and death itself.

He felt unimaginable power course through his body. The Essence of Fury erupted from his body, destroying the pedestal and sending Cynder flying through the air. The images on the walls disappeared as Fury washed over him. Time itself seemed to slow and speed up for Spyro, and he felt his very soul recoil at the energy coursing through his body. He felt it rush through his very soul, drawing in everything, condensing it, and then releasing all at once.

Cynder looked on in terror from the other side of the room as Spyro was lifted up in the air. His eyes glowed gold while the scales all over his body darkened to a deep black. His wings splayed out to the sides as his mouth opened in a scream. Cynder could feel the pain in it, making her want to help him even more.

"Spyro!" she yelled, hoping to get his attention, she leaped towards him only to get knocked back by a bolt of energy. It sent her sprawling onto the floor, knocking the wind out of her..

Spyro faintly heard a scream and shouting in the air, the pain in his body too much for him to concentrate on found that it was he who was screaming and that Cynder was calling his name.

Cynder gasped as she saw a black aura emanate from his body, reminding her of when he had stepped into the Well of Souls during the Eternal Night. White electricity arced over Spyro's body, and he writhed in pain. Tears streamed down her face at the sight. Cynder wanted badly to help him, but exhaustion had overtaken her body. It hurt to move a muscle, and she couldn't find the strength to get up and go aid her love.

Spyro wouldn't give up on me! I can't give up on him! she yelled in her head. Adrenaline coursed through her veins. With a sudden surge of energy she got to her feet and stumbled over to Spyro as his scales once again shifted colors.

"Spyro! Spyro, it's me, Cynder! Please Spyro, can you hear me?" she begged, but to no avail. Her tears dripped onto the floor as she cried, yelling his name over and over. She tried again to reach out to him but another bolt of energy hit her in the chest and sending her flying.

Still on an adrenaline high she picked herself and attempted once more to reach him, this time flapping her wings and launching herself at him. This time she was able to get close enough to touch him and placed a paw on his leg.

"SPYAAAGGGH!" she screamed as excruciating pain rushed through her. She had interfered with the energy flowing through Spyro's body, and some of it had traveled into her. she was flung at the back wall with tremendous force. The impact tore membranes in her wings. She cried out in pain as the humerus of her right wing broke, and she tumbled to the floor.

Blood from her wings pooled and dripped onto the floor, but Cynder paid it no mind. She far more focused on helping Spyro. Something had left her, something that gave her energy. Something else had replaced it; she didn't know what it was, but it made her feel closer to Cynder somehow.

Unable to help, Cynder could only watched in horror as a purple and golden stream of light left Spyro's body. It took the outline of his body as it swirled around his limp form.

That's his spirit! Cynder realized with a growing dread. She watched as it pulled towards the transparent crystal. Spyro's body writhed as his soul stretched and became a large strand of purple and gold light. Next to it was another, smaller stream of light. Colored red, black, and white, she instantly recognized it as part of her soul.

Spyro felt his soul ripped from his body. All he could feel was time grinding against itself and the movement of energy in and around him.

The crystal turned into light, and began to fuse with Spyro's soul. Cynder covered her face with her wing, extending the membrane as much as she could against the harsh gusts. Small rocks and other pieces of debris were picked up and flung about the room as the lights began intertwining themselves with Spyro's soul.

Spyro felt something rub up against his soul. Reaching out, he felt a calm, and loving entity next it him. It was soothing and peaceful and trying to combine with him and be a part of who he was. But it was painfully damaged.

Curious, he opened up part of his soul and let a small segment of the entity inside him. It trickled into his soul. It curled around his essence and entwined itself with him, trying to mend itself by using parts of his spirit.

There was something about this spirit, something that felt familiar. He could feel how much it loved him and how it wanted to care for him.

Cynder?

Spyro felt something carve itself into the essence of his being and become linked to him. He felt a presence unlike any other combine with him, creating something new and powerful. This new presence felt both malevolent and benevolent at the same time. It felt both caring and cruel, aggressive and peaceful.

It was a remnant of a time long past. Something long forgotten, a part of an entity that once wielded power unimaginable. He knew that it was a part of something, but he couldn't figure what it was for.

As the light from the crystal fully fused itself with Spyro's spirit he felt a tremendous surge of energy propel out of him. It threw Cynder against the back wall again, putting pressure on her broken wing. She hissed in pain as the wing throbbed. She didn't even try to get up off the floor this time, knowing that it was likely she would just be thrown about like a ragdoll.

The energy pulsed outwards from the entangled streams of light before swirling back together into a sphere of golden energy. Cynder strained against the force of the wind, doing her best to not get thrown across the room again. Still unable to use her powers, she could only brace herself against the wall and use her wings to protect her from the debris being tossed about.

But she couldn't do anything about the energy itself.

Time and space seemed to warp as the energy condensed into a single point inside Spyro's body before shooting upwards to the ceiling, the shockwave blasting Cynder against the wall again and knocking her out.

The beam of energy broke through the roof of the chamber and continued upwards through the heart of the mountain. Rock was instantly vaporized as the beam exited the top of the mountain and shot up into the heavens. Creatures for miles around saw the golden beam in the sky, hesitant to what was causing it.

The beam continued through the atmosphere and into space, shooting out into the stars. The beam was powerful enough that it even broke through several dimensional barriers, allowing vast amounts of energy to seep through into other universes and realities.

* * *

In the shadows of a dying universe an intangible blob of phantom energy throbbed. It morphed and shifted and turned all without moving. Space time bent and curved around it, and the laws of reality either stopped working or were changed entirely from how they were meant to be by its mere presence.

The incorporeal entity felt the energy release. Reaching out with tendrils of corrupted energy, it found the source. Another universe, fresh for the taking. The raw energy in this one would be enough to make the final push against those that sought to stop it.

The shadow pulsated again, a large wave of energy jetting from it and blowing apart a dozen worlds within a several thousand light year radius, its version of a smile.

"It has begun."

* * *

Cynder groaned, slowly opening her eyes to see the ceiling of the chamber above her. The golden light from Spyro continued to light up the room, allowing her to see a large hole in the ceiling. Small lines of bright white light lined the edges of the room, giving her more to see with.

She raised her head, a spike of pain rushing through it as she pressed a paw against her temple. She blinked a couple times as she felt a warm liquid trailing down the side of her head.

She brought her paw around to the front of her face and found that there it was covered in a red liquid. Blood, she realized. I must've broken a couple scales on that impact. She couldn't do anything about it though. There weren't any red crystals around, so she would have to ignore the pain for now.

She looked around, finding that she was on the side of the room opposite the entryway. The pedestal that held the crystal was gone, and she couldn't see any of the paintings from before. The omens and prophecies on the walls were slowly fading away, and several chunks of the ebony rock had been torn off the wall by the force of the blast.

She rolled onto her stomach, her body screaming in protest. She cried out in pain when she moved her right wing, the broken bone not liking being jostled around. As she put pressure on her chest it suddenly erupted into intense pain. She hissed at the sensation, and tenderly felt her rib cage with her paw.

She winced in discomfort as her paw brushed over her sternum, finding the skin underneath her scales was swollen. The bone felt sore to the touch, and she left it alone. Her paw traveled down to her rib cage, and she grimaced upon finding that several of her ribs were either cracked, bruised, or broken.

She struggled to get to her feet, but found that she was too drained of energy to stand. She slumped to the floor, hissing again when her wounds throbbed. Finding that she couldn't move much, she turned her head to look at Spyro. Immediately she squinted and covered her face with her left wing as a bright golden light emanated from him. When her eyes properly adjusted to the light her jaw dropped at the sight before her.

Spyro was still hovering in the air, but his entire body looked as if someone had dunked him into a giant tub of gold paint. Every inch of him had a shiny golden sheen to it, including his wings and even the membranes in his fins. His glowing purple eyes were wide open, and he had a blank expression on his face. The crystal floated right next to him, it being the cause of the incredibly bright light.

"Spy-Spyro?" she asked timidly. She had no idea of what was going with him, but she wanted him back with her and not in some trance. She recoiled slightly when he snapped his head towards her, purple eyes burrowing into her hers. They held their gaze at each other, neither of them moving.

Cynder began to panic. She was starting to lose hope that Spyro was still there, and that she could still help him. No! she yelled in her mind. Don't think like that! Spyro is still in there somewhere! If it her that this was happening to Spyro wouldn't give up.

The two dragons continued to stare at each other, Cynder's body beginning to shake under the intense gaze of Spyro's purple orbs. As a golden tendril of light snaked its way to her head an odd sense of fear came over her. It was a feeling that she hadn't really experienced before. Never before, not even with Malefor, had she felt fear like this. It was foreboding, dark, and ran deep into her soul.

She gasped when she felt the tendril of light make contact with the black scales of the marking on her forehead. Spyro smirked, but it didn't seem to be one She began to feel an intense pressure on her mind, one that seemed to increase as Spyro narrowed his gaze.

Spyro's opened his maw and began mouthing words. As Cynder looked at his glowing form in confusion she heard a voice boom inside her head that spoke in tandem with the movements of Spyro's mouth. The voice was deep, powerful, and ancient. At the same time it was distant and powerful, echoing and close.

"The dead God will rise once more as the downfall of the Realms begins. When the dark one is turned and the savior is dead the destiny of the Warmasters will reveal itself, bringing forth the salvation of Creation."

Weird images flashed through her head: ones depicting massive battles, metal behemoths hundreds of feet tall, planets being crushed and violently destroyed, and large beings wrapped in armor.

Cynder widened her eyes at the voice and mental images. What God was it talking about? Who were the Warmasters and the dark one it spoke of? What were those creatures in the images, and why did they show such massive battles?

She didn't get any time to think about these questions as the crystal hummed louder, her eyes immediately being drawn towards it. The crystal was vibrating and rapidly spinning around Spyro's limp body. It suddenly started violently shaking, emitting a high pitched whine. Cynder instinctively covered her face with her wing as there was a large flash of light and a loud bang.

The crystal dropped to the ground with a clink, dull and lifeless, its inner light gone. The lighting in the room considerably darkened as the crystal stopped illuminating the chamber. Immediately lines all over the chamber lit up, bathing the room in a calming white light. Her eyes quickly adjusting to the light, she peeked out from behind her wing to see the crystal resting on the floor.

What was in there? she pondered. So many questions had arisen from their little adventure down here, but they had found no answers to any of them. Could Warfang have something that could give them clues? Maybe something down in the ancient ruins of the city was something that might help them understand this place.

She was stirred out of her thoughts as she saw the light around Spyro dissipating in the corner of her eye. Gazing up at him she saw Spyro still hovering in the air. His eyes were closed, a look of peace on his face. The golden sheen on his body seemed to flake off, revealing the shiny purple and yellow scales beneath. The shimmering energy field around his body slowly wore off, the arcs of electricity dissipating into the air.

Cynder painfully stood up as she saw Spyro descending to the floor. His eyes remained closed, his body limp and exhausted from the experience. The glowing aura that had surrounded his body was gone. Instead, small amounts of smoke wafted off of him, as if he had been intensely burned.

He twirled several times in the air before gently landing on the hard obsidian. He rested on his stomach, his wings and legs splayed out to his sides. His fins drooped to his scales, and an uncontrollable shiver racked his body. His eyes flickered beneath his eyelids as if he was experiencing an uncontrollable nightmare.

Worried about Spyro's state, Cynder grunted through the pain in her body and slowly walked up to him, her right wing sagging by her side. As she got close she noticed that his breathing was erratic, his chest rising and falling out of rhythm. Reaching his body, she nudged his head with her muzzle, trying to get a response out of him.

"Spyro! Spyro, wake up!" she said to him. Aside from his eyelids twitching she got no reaction from him. She nudged him again, harder this time. When he still didn't react, Cynder started getting anxious. They needed to get out of here, but she was too injured to carry them both out. She rolled him onto his back, Spyro's chest and underbelly being exposed to her.

She tried pinching him a couple times, but he didn't show any sign that it was felt. When that didn't work she shook his head around a little while with her paw. Nothing. She was getting very worried now. Deciding to try something a bit more extreme, she pushed down on his chest.

"Come on Spyro, don't do this to me! Wake up, please!" she cried, tears welling up in her eyes. She pushed him harder, but there was still no reaction by him. She pried open one of his eyelids, checking for a dilation of his pupils, and found none.

What else can I do? I don't have any powers to use, and I don't want to hurt him… Using her tail blade was out of the question, due to its lethal design. She could try to wake him gently, but she couldn't figure out the best way to do that.

Spyro suddenly coughed a few times, causing her to focus back on him. Spyro coughed weakly a couple more times before he settled. His eyes flicked back and forth beneath his eyelids Confused, Cynder watched his chest. When it didn't rise she instantly grew worried. Placing her ear near his mouth, she listened to his breathing.

There wasn't any.

Alarmed, Cynder quickly put her head to his chest and froze. His heart had stopped beating. She began panicking, unsure of what to do. Her own heart started beating frantically and her breathing quickened. She hadn't experienced something like this before in the field. Sure, she had learned how to treat something like this, but she didn't know if it would work.

She took a couple deep breaths, trying to calm herself down. If she panicked too much she wouldn't be able to help Spyro properly. She needed a cool head to do this. Calming herself down, she wiped away the tears coming from her eyes.

Okay Cynder. Just take a deep breath. Spyro needs your help. Remember your training, she told herself. Taking another deep breath she calmed her shaking paws, going back the lessons she had learned at the temple on how to perform draconic CPR.

Remembering the lessons taught to her by Volteer, she quickly switched to her other form. She rested one hand on his forehead, using her thumb and forefinger to close his nostrils, while tilting his head up with her other hand. This freed his airways, and were very important to CPR. She inhaled, pressed her lips against Spyro's, and breathed twice.

They weren't long, only a second in length, but they weren't supposed to be long. She watched Spyro's chest rise and immediately placed her scaled hands over each other on his thick chest. She pushed the heel of her hand into his breastbone, hard. Due to the thickness of a dragon's torso, extra force was necessary to get past the dense muscle and bone.

She pushed down on his sternum 30 times in quick succession, doing her best to get his heart circulating again. After the chest compressions she breathed into him twice more, trying to get him to breathe.

Oh, how I wish that I could use my powers right now! she thought.

She continued performing CPR on him, but after the sixth breath she started losing hope that he would come back. Her arms were getting sore from all the compressions, and her pushes slowly began changing into directly hitting his torso. Tears welled up in her eyes again, several of them flying onto Spyro's prone form.

"No! Spyro! Don't do this to me! Please, just give me a sign that you're there! Please!" she tearfully pleaded, her heartfelt sobs echoing around the chamber. When there was no answer, she broke down and let the tears flow from her eyes. She shifted back to her quadruped form, forelegs spread out across Spyro's underbelly.

She wrapped her forelegs around his torso and pulled his body towards her so that his head rested on the ground in front of her. Her eyes roamed over his head, taking in the sight of his purple scales and yellow horns. Memories flashed through her head of him using those horns in combat, ramming into large enemies and knocking them down so that he could finish them. She reached and gently stroked one of them with her paw, feeling their rough, bony texture that made them incredibly durable.

Cynder lay in that position for a while, still trying to get over the fact the he was dead. She nudged her forehead against his, her tears dripping down her face to the cold obsidian below.

"Just yesterday you told me you loved me. Why did you have to leave me so soon?" she whispered to Spyro.

Ancestors, why could you let this happen to me? Why did you take him away from me? Why? Why?

"Why?!" she cried burying her face into Spyro's neck. The golden scales were still warm, and his scent still emanated from them.

"Spyro, please come back. I love you. I can't go on without you," she sobbed. She leaned in and kissed him on the lips, a warm feeling traveling up her chest and through her mouth into his body. If Cynder's eyes were open she would have seen a black, red, white energy travel from her body and into Spyro's lifeless one.

The energy moved through Spyro's body, travelling through his veins and organs while leaving trace amounts of power within them. The energy continued to his spine and headed through neurological highway before arriving in his head.

Deep inside Spyro's mind was his slumbering spirit, its energy drained by the crystal. It waited for something, anything to reach out to it and bring it back. For nightmares plagued it; nightmares that showed it terrible futures, of loved ones being killed and wars being lost.

The arrival of the multi-hued energy was entirely unexpected. It entered Spyro's mindscape, where his souls, thoughts, and memories rested. It danced around his spirit's prone form, watching for a sign from it.

When it got none, the energy sent a small jolt into the spirit, trying to wake it up. It seemed to do the trick. The spirit stirred, and the energy quickly transferred itself into the spirit.

Spyro's soul felt a sudden intrusion into it's base, but soon found that it was some energy that it could use to wake back up. It pulled it further inwards into itself, bringing it to where the black, white, and red soul was within him. The energy joined with it, and Spyro's spirit felt a jolt of power rush through it.

Now awake, the spirit connected itself to Spyro's body. It embedded itself deep within Spyro before transferring its energy into the body. Slowly but surely, his various organs started up again: his heart started beating again, his lungs quietly took in a breath, and his brain started waking up.

Cynder lay there next to him, choked sobs escaping her throat. She had forgotten about her hunger; it wasn't as important as lying here on the floor with Spyro. She closed her eyes and kept them closed, not wanting to look at the deceased body of her drakefriend.

Unseen by her, his eyes twitched beneath his eyelids. He quietly inhaled, the noise of Cynders crying overpowering that of his breathing. Blood pumped throughout his body, bringing feeling back into his limbs. His tail twitched, the golden leaf-like tail blade scraping across the ground.

Cynder stopped sobbing as she heard the noise. Her eyes flew open and she lifted her head up, looking around the room to find what made the sound. When she found nothing, she looked back at Spyro's body, eyes flicking across it. She told herself that it was to take in the sight of his body again before she would have to leave it, but unconsciously it was to check to see if there was any sign of life. She sighed, and laid her head back down on the ground, her forehead pressed against Spyro's.

As Spyro's began slowly waking up he found himself confused at the previous events. All he remembered was the incredibly bright light from the crystal in his vision, and intense searing pain throughout his body, and then a giant pulse of energy that had rattled his bones. He slowly began understanding the images that began rushing through his mind: his soul had been taken out of his body and fused with something; what, he couldn't tell.

He faintly remembered screaming, and someone calling out his name. He heard voices, whispers in his head from an ancient thing that easily overwhelmed him.

The first thing he felt as blood rushed throughout his body was something pressed against his forehead. It was hard and warm, and he thought that it was a large rock. He tried to open his eyes, but it felt as if they weighed a ton. He didn't have the strength to open them.

However, his hearing and sense of smell had come back. He heard sobbing next to him; it was quiet, and sounded feminine. He breathed in through his nose and inhaled a sweet, succulent scent. It reminded him of someone: a black and red dragoness, with markings covering her body. She was sweet, caring, and protective. He didn't know her name, but the mere thought of her instantly made him feel better.

He remained motionless on the ground as he felt the mass next to him shift before something scaly was pressed against his muzzle.

Unaware that he had awakened, Cynder leaned in and kissed Spyro on the lips before whispering three words to him.

"I love you."

Spyro's heart jumped at the words, and Spyro felt a surge of something rush through him. He recognized that voice. He knew that smell. And those words… someone important to him had said them to him before.

Suddenly, it all came back to him.

Cynder. She probably thought he was dead. But her kiss and her tears had reawakened a part of his soul that brought him back. She needed to know he was alive.

The purple dragon inhaled sharply and let out a loud groan, alerting Cynder to the fact that he was alive. Cynder gasped, pulling her head away and staring into his closed eyes. She watched, her heart fluttering, as his eyelids rapidly opened and closed.

"Spyro?" Her flow of tears slowed as she loomed over him. However, one of the drops of water fell from her eyes and splashed onto his purple scales.

The male dragon beneath her felt the liquid splash onto his face. Opening his eyes, he found himself staring up into the emerald eyes of the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. He blinked a couple times, eyes adjusting to the light, and groaned as he lifted his head off the ground.

"Cy-Cyn? Is tha-Is that you?" he asked weakly.

"Oh, Spyro!" she cried again, her joyful tears running down her cheeks and onto Spyro's chest. She pulled his torso into a joyful hug, elated that he was awake. Water filled Spyro's eyes as he felt her give a happy sob, wondering what caused her to be like this.

"Shhh, it's okay Cynder, I'm here. It's alright," he comforted her, a paw running up and down her back. He figured that something had happened to him that made her think he had been gravely injured or, even worse, dead.

"Don't ever do that again!" she said, tears streaming down her face. Spyro's eyes swiveled in their sockets to focus on the back of her neck as tears trailed down his muzzle. He frowned, confused at what she meant.

"Do what?" he asked.

"What do you mean, what? You were basically dead! You're heart stopped and you weren't breathing. I thought you were dead!" she said, hugging him tighter. Spyro's eyes widened: he had died?

The two sat like that for a while, Spyro rubbing her back as Cynder cried into the side of his neck. After several minutes of silence, he decided to ask her about what happened.

"Cynder, what happened? All I remember is a lot of pain and colorful lights. everywhere," he questioned. Cynder sobbed once more before calming down, trying to find the right words to explain what had gone on.

"It's-It's hard to explain," she said. She watched as a tear dripped down her muzzle and onto Spyro's back, several more following after that. She felt Spyro shift as he gently rubbed her back.

"Cynder, tell me," he said, the concern apparent in his tone.

Cynder shook her head and pulled away from Spyro before looking him in the eye. "It can wait Spyro. We should be more focused on getting out of here and finding some shelter."

Spyro let out a sigh, unhappy with not getting to know what all happened. "Fine," he said in apparent defeat. "But when we find a place to sleep I want to know what happened."

Cynder nodded and stood up before letting out a pained hiss. She had forgotten about her wounds, and upon standing up had moved in a way that irritated her broken ribs.

"What is it?" asked Spyro, seeing the grimace on her face.

"Nothing. It's fine," she curtly replied. Spyro easily saw through this lie, however, and stood up. He took a step towards her, his eyes darting over her body and noticing the wounds she had somehow received.

"What's that on your chest? And what happened to your wing?" he questioned. He had spotted the bruised area of scales on her chest, and that her right wing hung limply by her side. By the way her chest was rising and falling somewhat erratically alerted him that her rib cage had also suffered some injury.

Cynder sat back down and sighed, wincing slightly as sharp pain raced through her chest. Spyro sat down by her side and gently nuzzled her neck, doing his best to make her feel better. Cynder knew that Spyro wouldn't stop until he knew what had happened to her.

"When your soul or spirit or whatever fused with the crystal's light there was this large energy shockwave that threw me against the wall," she said, pointing at the wall behind her with her tail. Looking at it, Spyro noticed a very dragon shaped indentation on the wall. "It knocked me out and both broke my wing and damaged several ribs."

"My soul did that?" he asked, timidly. He couldn't wrap his head around the idea that something so small could do such harm. From what he knew of souls and spirits, they weren't supposed to be able to do that. Only Soul dragons had the power to wield and manipulate spirits themselves.

"Yeah, or whatever happened when it fused with the crystal. I told you it was hard to explain. Don't think about it too much though; I'll tell you the rest of it later," she replied. Spyro nodded, and they both sat there for a few minutes.

Should I tell him about the voice? The one that said the purple dragon would die to bring back a God? She mulled this question over, and decided that she wouldn't tell him until it was necessary. She didn't want to freak him out and try to find a way to make sure that the prophecy the voice said never came to pass.

"I'm sorry that I hurt you," apologized Spyro, snapping her out of her thoughts. He hung his head, ashamed at what had happened. Cynder shook her head, not wanting him to act that way. She knew what is was like to have things happen that one couldn't control.

"Spyro, it wasn't your fault," she said, trying to get him to understand that his actions weren't his own. She understood what he was going through; these were the same kind of feelings she had when she was stripped of her evil form.

"It was though! I just had to listen to the voice in my head and get that crystal! Look what happened because of it!" Spyro yelled, angry that he had hurt her. He pointed to the wound on Cynder's chest, but she didn't pay it any mind.

"Spyro, what happened happened. We can't change that," argued Cynder, her soothing voice helping calm down Spyro and keep his dark side from taking over.

She saw him relax, his eyes angling down to the ground as his shoulders slumped slightly. He took in a deep breath and exhaled, doing his best to keep his anger from taking over.

"I know. I just-I didn't mean for you to get hurt," he said. Cynder wrapped her good wing around him, assuring him that everything was, for the most part, alright. Upon feeling the leathery membrane of her wing on his back, Spyro raised his head to meet Cynder's gaze.

"You can make it up to me by finding some red gems later," Cynder replied, smiling at him.

Spyro smiled back, happy that she wasn't too mad with him.

"Come on, let's get out of here," said Cynder, getting to her feet. Pain shot through her ribs, chest and wing as she rose up, causing her to hiss in pain. She ignored it for the most part, instead concentrating on getting out of the chamber.

As Spyro got to his feet he groaned at an intense soreness in his body. Cynder turned to look at him, a look of worry on her face. She could see that Spyro was in agony; every step he took sent spikes of pain throughout his body, and he winced every time he moved a muscle. Taking several steps, he found the pain to be too much, and fell down onto the ground.

Cynder walked over to him and sat on her haunches in front of him. Spyro lazily raised his head, but the throbbed once more. He hissed, taking in several deep breaths to try and calm his nerves.

"Where does it hurt?" Cynder asked, wondering what could have done this to him. She idly ran her paw down his back and around the fins adorning his head. His purple scales looked dull in the dim light, and the horns on his head had lost their radiant glow.

"All over," Spyro replied through clenched teeth, pain still shooting throughout his body. Cynder nodded, concluding that it was likely a side effect of the crystal's power. She gently rubbed his head, trying to find a way to help him back to his feet.

A voice in her head whispered comforting words to her, telling her that she could make him feel better. She hesitated at first, not fully trusting the voice in her head. She had ample reason to; many voices whispered things to her when she was under the control of Malefor, telling her things that dragged down her peaceful until she was nothing but a terrifying dark dragoness.

Listening to the voice, she laid a paw on his muzzle, liking the touch of his cool scales on her paw pads. The voice told her the easiest way to help him, and she came up with the best method to do it. Spyro, still in great pain, didn't complain or object to her touching him. However, her actions confused him. What was she trying to do?

"Uh, Cyn? What are you doing?" he questioned. Cynder simply placed a claw on his lips, quieting him but confusing him at the same time. Cynder lowered her head to his level and gazed into his deep mauve eyes.

"Shhh, it's okay Spyro. I know what I'm doing," she said, before kissing him right on the lips. Spyro's eyes widened briefly before settling down and closing as he melted into the kiss. He was surprised at the bold move, but he let himself go and let the emotions flow through him.

Cynder pressed her paws onto either side of his head, and he felt a warm, comforting sensation flow throughout his body, easing his pained muscles.

Cynder was surprised when she felt a rush of energy surge through her. She gasped at the feeling, allowing some air to escape into Spyro's mouth. He didn't notice, his mind still reeling from the experience. Cynder sensed the energy traveling to her wounds, healing them.

Her broken wing slowly fit itself back together, the fragments of bone fused back into one piece. The same energy repaired her ribs, then the skin repairing itself as new scales quickly formed over the injury.

The kiss lasted for about minute until the two dragons broke away, feeling far better than before. They were exhausted from the experience, but their injuries and pains had vanished. Unfortunately, their stomachs grumbled again, reminding the two that they still had to find food and a place to sleep for the night.

Too tired to speak, the two dragons steadily got to their feet, both feeling utterly exhausted, and slowly began walking towards the exit. They passed by the destroyed remains of the pedestal, the ornate golden it was made from twisted and warped by the intense energies of the crystal. Pieces of the exotic pictures were scattered around the floor, the light that made up the frames having disappeared and dropping the images in the process.

Spyro hung back a little, taking in the sight of the previously-clean chamber. It was as if a whirlwind had suddenly arrived in the room; broken pictures and pieces of statues were strewn about the floor. The words on the walls had disappeared, and cracks had formed in the obsidian when stone had impacted it.

Spyro briefly gazed over the room again before turning and heading towards the exit. As he did, he got a nice view of Cynder's back and tail as she continued to the entryway. Even if he hadn't experienced that energy transfer with her he could tell she was tired. By the way her tail didn't swing from side to side, or that her wings hung limply by her side. But as his eyes roamed over her body, he could tell that there was something different about her.

What was it? He could definitely that some aspect of her body was different than when they had first set foot into the chamber. Something familiar...

As Cynder stepped out of the light he realized what was different about her.

"Uh, Cynder? What happened to your scales?" he asked. Cynder stopped and turned to look at him, confused.

"What do you mean?" she asked back. Spyro walked forward and pointed to the markings on her body. She craned her head to look at where he was pointing.

"The scales that make up your markings are usually black. They've turned white - and they're glowing," Spyro replied. Cynder's eyes widened, and she craned her head to see what he was talking about. And true enough, she saw that the scales that formerly made up her markings had turned from an ebony black to a bright white.

The scales glowed in the dark, showing off the designs on her shoulders, lower back, forehead, and underneath her eyes. Even if he couldn't make her out, Spyro could definitely tell where Cynder was.

"How did this happen? They've never turned white before!" Cynder yelled, craning her neck from side to side to look at all her markings.

"Calm down Cyn, it's okay. That effect will probably go away," Spyro calmly stated. Cynder sighed and nodded, taking in a deep breath and exhaling it soon after.

"Besides, I think the new color looks nice," Spyro complimented. Cynder looked at him, a tired grin plastered on his face. Cynder smiled back and licked his nose before looking over her body once more.

"Thanks, but it kinda ruins my stealth abilities. When you're lit up like an Ice Festival tree it makes you pretty easy to see in the dark," Cynder said, frowning. The darkness was an ally that she used often to get the drop on unsuspecting enemies, but now that she glowed in the dark it was pretty easy to see her.

"Yeah, but I think it's a nice change from you being an entirely black dragoness," Spyro commented, reaching up and touching the marking on her shoulder. He rubbed the scales with one of his paw pads, trying to get rid of the effect, but the scales seemed to be permanently altered.

"Doesn't look like it's coming off," Spyro said, shaking his head. Cynder sighed, unhappy about the sudden changes to her body. She would adapt to it, but that didn't mean that she had to like it.

However, glancing over at Spyro, she found that there were some changes to his body as well. Ones that hadn't been present on him before he had touched that crystal.

"Spyro? You've got some markings on you as well," she stated. Spyro's eyes widened to the size of saucer plates as he heard this.

"Wait, what?!" Spyro exclaimed, and twisted his neck to look over his shoulder. As he looked at his back, he found that she was right: where there used to be a layer of light purple scales was now changed to multicolored scales that ran up and down his back. They formed weird shapes and symbols that seemed to flow up and down his back, as if made of water.

Spyro was fascinated by the markings. They were composed of a mix of rectangles, hexagons, trapezoids, and other geometric figures. Along the edges of his back were segmented trapezoids with a diamond in the center that alternated directions. Three elongated diamonds ran down his spine, each of which were split into 4 sections which had a hexagon in the middle. Triangles connected them together, and they formed hardened plates instead of scales.

"There's more on your tail," commented Cynder, snapping Spyro out of his awe-moment. Spyro twisted his tail around and looked at it, giving Cynder a good glimpse of something on his neck. As Spyro looked at the octagonal plates that ran from the base of his tail to the tip of his tail-blade, Cynder gazed over the black and yellow lines running up the back of Spyro's neck. The lines connected at the base of his skull, and she could see that they continued over his head.

Curious, Cynder called Spyro's name. He stopped looking over his tail and glanced over at her, giving Cynder a good view of his forehead. An intricate pattern of yellow scales outlined the Spyro's headfins, and they came down to wrap around his purple muzzle. Running alongside his headfins were two elongated ovals, adjacent to which were curved triangles that curled back towards his neck.

The markings entranced her, her eyes becoming unfocused as she gazed into the markings. She felt herself get pulled into the symbols on Spyro's forehead, and something inside her fluttered. The symbols seemed to swirl and elongate

Unknown to Cynder, Spyro was growing annoyed at how she stared at him. He twisted his head to the right, and Cynder copied the movement. She seemed to be entranced by something on his head, but he couldn't see it.

His stomach growled loudly, reminding him that his body really needed some food. Cynder gave the impression that she didn't hear it, and just continued to look at his head.

They really needed to go, and she was holding them back. He waved his paw in front of her, but to no effect.

"Ahem," Spyro loudly cleared his throat, snapping Cynder out of the trance. Cynder quickly blinked and yanked her head back before shaking it a few times. Looking up, she noticed Spyro giving her an annoyed look. She felt the scales under her cheeks heat up as she quickly became embarrassed at what happened.

"Oh Spyro sorry I didn't mean to-" Cynder stammered out.

"It's fine Cynder, but can we please get out of here? I'm really hungry, tired, and very sore, and I want to leave" he said grumpily. Cynder closed her mouth and simply nodded, heavily blushing beneath her scales.

"Okay," she said, and watched as Spyro turned back to the exit. She decided to take one last look at the room before they left. Turning around, she let her emerald eyes glaze over the chamber, taking in the sight of it for a final time.

So many questions had presented themselves to the dragons, and neither of them had found any answers. Cynder hoped that she and Spyro could both return sometime in the future, hopefully with more dragons to try and make sense of it all.

For once, Volteer and Cyril could possibly come in handy. Both of them were avid historians, and would go out of their way to learn about ancient civilizations of dragons and other species. There was so much lost history of the dragon race, as a cause of the war and disasters that had happened long before either of them had been born.

"Come on, Cynder!" called Spyro, who was waiting for her a couple steps ahead, his tail thumping against the floor impatiently. Cynder pivoted around and walked towards him, until she noticed something strange about his markings.

"Wait a minute," said Cynder, looking up and down his back as she neared him. Spyro groaned; they were taking way too long to leave. It took them about 15 minutes to walk down here. In their current exhausted and sore states, it would likely take them at least 30 minutes to get back into the valley.

"What is it?" he asked, his rising anger seeping into his tone. If Cynder noticed it she didn't mention it to him.

"Your markings," she stated, reaching out with a tired arm and pointing to them. "They're turning dark purple."

Looking back over his shoulder, Spyro found that Cynder was correct: the yellow and black markings that had previously adorned his back were changing color. The scales were turning a deep evening purple, a slightly darker shade than the rest of his scales. His eyes trailed down his back to his tail, where the fused scales seemed to come apart and return back to their natural states. These too turned dark purple as well.

"Well, the markings on your head haven't turned black again," noted Spyro as they neared the steps that would lead them up out of the mountain. Cynder looked at her shoulder and saw that what Spyro said was true. Her markings remained white, while Spyro's had changed.

Someone could only see the markings on Spyro if they gave him a good look-over. It would be hard to tell that he had symbols on his body from a distance due to the fact that his light-and-dark scale blended together with one another. Unless he had to get a physical examination from someone, no one would ever know that he had been changed.

Cynder's markings, on the other paw, were easily visible. Anyone who had seen her before would immediately know that she had changed, and there would likely be questions. Questions that she didn't have the answer too.

All-in-all, she didn't really mind the white scales. Thinking it over, she liked the contrast they provided with the rest of her, and that it could symbolize that she was a changed dragoness. Maybe she could use them to show dissenters that she was different from her previous self.

She decided that if someone did see the markings on them and ask what they were the two dragons could easily pass it off as a result of their pulling the world back together.

Both dragons felt a cold draft across their scales, likely from the valley above. Cynder leaned against Spyro's warm body, both for warmth and that she was quite exhausted from the events of the day. Spyro briefly stopped to take one last look at the chamber and what it held before looking back up the dark pathway and ascending up the stairs. Cynder went with him,

As they exited, a soft glow emanate from the statue behind them. Lines of light traveled up and down the rock, creating a sign on the front of the statue. Curved, black lines met angular purple ones, and the shapes filled in with several different colors.

As the glow disappeared, the symbol was revealed. If the dragons were to turn and look at it they would see that it combined both of their markings. At the top was Cynder's head crest, with a combination of her and Spyro's back markings in the center of the statue. On either side of Spyro's markings were white and black triangles, similar to the mark on Cynder's shoulders.

The shapes fit perfectly together, forming a symbol that only residents of times long past would know and worship. It belonged to an ancient order, one that was told about in legends across the Realms. It was a sign of power and discipline, of respect and commandment.

The symbol sat there, waiting. It would be a while before anyone found this place again. In the meantime it would remain there, powering up the room, until the rightful owners returned and brought it back to life.

* * *

"See? I told you that they were meant for each other."

"Yes, I know. I saw their souls binding together. So what? You know what it means that he found the crystal. You know what is inside it."

"He may be the last purple dragon, but we can't just let him die trying to bring him back. There's got to be another way."

"They'll be safe for now."

"Good."

"Have you spoken to the others about our plan?"

"No. They don't need to know anything just yet."

"And what about it? There's no way that it couldn't have felt that shockwave."

"It likely did, considering the power he put into it. But what can we do about it? We only have so much time before it arrives, and we aren't strong enough to take it on."

"I hate to say this, but it's likely that we might have to ask them for help."

"We'll just have to place our hopes in those two for now. Thanks to him, we still can't give them the power they might need to fight it off. If we have to ask them for help, we'll just have to hope that our champions can find a way to get them to forgive us for our actions so long ago."

* * *

**Next chapter should is on the way and should be out next month. Don't forget to review!**


	4. Arc 1: Chapter 3: Orkirm Refuge

**A/N: Alright, chapter 3! **

**Themes for this chapter are "Flamerock Refuge" from the Borderlands 2 soundtrack and "Good Morning to Your Nightcap/Behind the Haystack" from the FATE soundtrack.**

**I don't own Spyro, Activision does. I own my own characters and the plot.**

* * *

_Location unknown, Avalar, Aslore_

_Date unknown_

Spyro and Cynder leaned against each other as they walked up the steps, both quite tired from their experiences. They wanted to conserve their energy, and so the walk back up was a silent one. They were content, though, just by being at each others side.

They both felt closer for some reason, like their bodies and minds were meant to be together. Thoughts ran through both their heads at the feeling. They both knew something happened in the chamber that strengthened their bond, but they couldn't figure out how exactly. Was it the crystal? The lights that swirled when they touched it? Or was it something else? Something that belonged to them?

The magical torches lit the steps before them as they mulled over these ideas. Even though they didn't say it aloud, both dragons wanted to come back in the future and see what other secrets were hidden inside the chamber. If possible, they would tell some other dragons, such as the Guardians, Flame, and Ember, and bring them back here to show them what they had found.

As they made their way back up to the surface their stomachs constantly growled, echoing off the walls of the hallway as if it was a cave. They couldn't see very far ahead, only a couple of yards, and the torches made it hard for their draconic eyes to adjust to the darkness. As tired and sore as they were, they nevertheless pushed on.

Finally, panting and ready to fall asleep, the two dragons exited the hole in the side of the mountain. It had been a tiring thirty minute walk back to the surface, but they had made it. Now, famished, bruised, sore, exhausted and incredibly thirsty, the two dragons set out across the valley.

Upon stepping on the grass the dragons found that night had fallen across the valley. It was quiet; the only sounds they could hear were the crickets chirping and the water from a nearby stream trickling down the rocks.

Looking up both dragons could see the tops of the trees blocking the light of Aslore's two moons, Iamar and Atia. Stars overhead twinkled in the night sky, creating beautiful constellations and patterns.

Spyro and Cynder walked as fast as they could to the stream ahead, full of crisp, cold mountain water. Upon reaching the edge of the stream Cynder lowered herself to take several large gulps of water. Spyro, on the other hand, simply collapsed onto the grass and let his head fall into the water.

Cynder giggled at the sight as Spyro drank in the cool life-giving liquid, his horns and headfins poking up out of the running water. When he had drunk his fill, Spyro raised his head out of the stream and shook it, sending droplets of water flying in every direction.

Several landed on Cynder, but she paid it no mind. A cool breeze blew across the valley, rustling the grass that tickled the scales on their underbellies. The air was cool and crisp, like the water from the stream. The two could see small amounts of steam exit their nostrils as they breathed in and out.

However, there was something else on the breeze. It was a scent that caused both dragons to instinctively inhale deeply, their delicate noses trying to draw in that smell. Neither of them could place it, but they knew that it wasn't one that was normally associated with the valley.

As the duo took a step forward they heard a rustling in the trees ahead of them. Stopping, they looked around, trying to locate the noise. Only the sounds of the bubbling stream met them. The crickets had stopped chirping, the owls had halted their hooting, and the squeaks of bats and other nocturnal animals had died away.

'_Animals don't stop making noise for no reason_', thought Spyro, his mind racing as he tried to figure out what was going on. He glanced at Cynder, who returned his gaze. The two nodded at each other, an unspoken agreement having taken place between the two. Having worked together for so long they trusted each other's instincts and feelings.

They knew they were being watched, their scaly hackles being raised as their gut instincts told them something was out there. Time and time again the Guardians told the two teen dragons to listen to their instincts, as they rarely failed you.

Both young dragons scooted closer to each other, listening, smelling, watching for anything that was out of the ordinary. That earlier smell came to mind, and they ran it through their heads, trying to match it with something.

They never got the chance to finish when a dozen large dark figures suddenly dropped down in front of them. Spyro whirled around, facing the stream as another dozen landed in front of him. They were tall, taller than both the teenagers, and Spyro could easily make out folded wings behind their backs.

Both dragons assumed their defensive postures: their torsos low to the ground, fangs bared, and wings splayed out to the side to make them look bigger. Adrenaline rushed through them, making them forget their exhaustion. They growled at the figures, who appeared to be carrying long staffs. Metal glinted in the moonlight, and Spyro could make out several bladed edges on the staffs.

The two teenage dragons were surrounded on all sides, caught unawares by the sudden ambush. Looking around, Cynder didn't know if they would be able to fight them all off. Even with the adrenaline flowing through their veins, they still lacked the ability to use any of their powers.

The two dragons stood side-by-side, ready to fight, when an intense bright light suddenly filled their vision. Reflexively, they squinted and covered their eyes with their wings. A second later, a masculine voice rang out in front of them.

"Dragons? What are you doing here? Have you decided to attack us again?!" the voice yelled. Eyes still trying to adjust to the light, Spyro looked at the voice. He made out a spear being held right in front of him but not the figure behind it. He could see that it's wings were spread out, and could tell from their outline that they weren't made of a leathery membrane.

_Wait, why does he think we were going to attack him?_ Spyro wondered. He opened his mouth, about to reply and tell the creature in front of him that he and Cynder weren't going to hurt them, when he was suddenly cut off by another voice.

"Lower your weapons! These two mean us no harm!" This one sounded sterner and bolder, one that commanded instead of following others. Spyro saw the spears lower as the light was raised higher off the ground, giving the two dragons a good look at their ambushers.

They were avians: birds of different breeds that took bipedal forms. They looked similar to dragons in their bipedal state: two legs, two arms, and wings folded against their back. Looking around, Spyro counted nearly twenty of them, all of them different breeds and species. There were owls, eagles, phoenixes, hawks, falcons, ravens, and even a gryphon among them.

One of them stood out: a large golden eagle, easily twice the height of Spyro, covered in powerful metal armor that wrapped around his chest, legs, arms, and wings. A large helmet with swept-back fins adorned his head, and he held a large staff with a blade attached to the end. He seemed to be the leader of the group.

He stepped forward, giving the dragons a better look at him as he entered the light. His armor was a dirty brown and green, allowing him to easily blend in with the surrounding environment. He held his staff at his side, the bladed end pointed up at the sky. His wings were folded up against his back, and his tail feathers were clumped together.

The dragons stared into the eyes of the eagle. A smirk made its way across the eagles beak, as if he knew something that the two dragons didn't. Movement to the right of him caused the dragons to shift their focus, looking at the newcomer.

It was a striped screech owl, only a little taller than Spyro. It pointed its staff at the dragons, causing them to both take a slight step backwards. The eagle turned his head and glared at the owl, his unrelenting gaze bearing down on the gray owl.

"Jalcino, put your weapon down. That's an order," said the eagle. His stern voice made the owl flinch, but his staff remained pointed at the dragons. Both dragons, still in their defensive postures, faced the owl and growled, causing its eyes to immediately widen in fear.

"B-bu-but s-sir, these two are dragons-" the owl stammered at his superior, quite scared by the two ferocious looking dragons. The eagle huffed as he spoke, shaking his head and pointing at the two dragons before interrupting the owl.

"Dragons who have saved the world. Do you not recognize them?" the eagle asked, calmly. The owl looked at them again, this time noticing the purple scales on the male and ebony scales on the female. His eyes widened as he realized just who the two were.

"They are Spyro and Cynder. The saviors of Aslore," said the eagle, causing the avians to murmur amongst themselves. Both dragons shuffled nervously, not liking the sudden attention they were receiving. The eagle looked around at his troops, waiting for the chatter to die down before speaking again. "They are the cause of those earthquakes and storms several days ago, as they bravely fought Malefor and brought our planet back from the brink of destruction."

"I apologize, Spyro and Cynder. I did not notice that it was you," said the owl before he stepped back into the circle.

"I am Captain Markavir," the eagle said, introducing himself. "We," he gestured around him, "are from the nearby village of Orkirm."

The chatter rose up again as Markavir turned to the heroes before kneeling in front of them, resting his staff on the ground. The large group of avians quickly followed their leader, their metal plates of their armors clinking as they all kneeled in front of the two dragons.

Both dragons were surprised: they had never had people greet them like this before. Yes, many had bowed upon seeing the legendary purple dragon and his ashey companion, but none had ever kneeled before them. Spyro didn't like it, as he felt that he didn't deserve all the praise heaped upon him. Sure, he was a special dragon, but he was just doing his duty to the planet.

Cynder didn't know what to feel. The only time people had kneeled before her was when she was in command of her Dark Army. Nowadays, most creatures would shy away from her or not even look in her direction because of her past.

"It is an honor to meet you two. I have heard much of your adventures, especially of yours, Spyro," said Markavir, snapping the two out of their thoughts. "We would be honored if you two would follow us to our village, where we can give both of you a place to sleep for the night. "

He looked up to see Spyro shaking his head at him, a shocked expression on his face. Markavir frowned, not understanding why. Did the great purple hero of the Realms not like their bowing?

"Please, don't kneel. We don't deserve it," said Spyro, trying to be as humble as possible. Upon hearing this, Cynder pursed her scaly lips and elbowed him in the side, eliciting a startled yelp from Spyro. Markavir looked at them, confused as to what they were doing. Spyro glared at Cynder, leaning in closer to find out why she hit him.

"What was that for?" he angrily whispered to the black dragoness. He was not in the mood for this, so Cynder had to have a very good reason for elbowing him. Cynder brought her wings up to either side of their heads, shielding them from the prying eyes of the kneeling avians around them.

"Look, do you want them to help us or not?" she quietly asked him. Spyro hesitated, unsure as to how to answer her question. Yes, he wanted a place to rest, but he really didn't want to be flattened by fans that wanted to meet him. And could they really trust these avians? Sure, they might seem peaceful now, but what if they suddenly attacked they two?

Both of them were tired, sore, and couldn't use their powers. If they were attacked they wouldn't stand a chance against the highly trained avian warriors. The blades on the ends of their staffs would undoubtedly break through their scales. Didn't Cynder realize that?

"Well, yeah, I do-" he started before Cynder interrupted him.

"Then shut up and let them kneel. If we're lucky, they'll take us back to their village and we can finally get some rest. Besides, you do deserve some praise for putting the world back together," she explained, giving him a small smile at the end of her sentence.

"But I don-" Spyro attempted to speak again, before he was interrupted by Cynder a second time.

"Spyro: we've both had a really long, tiring, painful day. I would like nothing more than for you and I to have some food and get some sleep," Cynder said, scowling at Spyro. Her visage had turned from one of happiness to one of exhaustion and slight anger, and Spyro gulped. He knew better than to mess with a female dragon when she was in a state like that.

He nodded, realizing that Cynder was correct. They both needed rest after their long day, and some food wouldn't help. It would be much better for both of them if they went with the avians. He figured it would be worth having people kneel for him.

"Fine," he said, and Cynder dropped her wings to her sides, revealing themselves to the waiting avians. The dragons turned and faced Markavir, regarding him with a careful eye. They would trust him - for now.

"Sorry about that. We just had a little discussion about getting back to Warfang," she lied, dodging the subject of Spyro not liking people kneeling for him. The eagle raised an eyeridge, not entirely convinced, but he let it slide.

"I see. Well, if you're trying to reach Warfang I suggest you wait until tomorrow. Warfang is nearly 300 miles away from here, which is about a 10-hour flight," he said. He saw their faces droop as they realized just how far away they were from home.

"However, if you come with us, we can provide you with some food and a place to sleep for the night. Tomorrow, if you feel up to it, we can head over to Warfang and you can let the city know you're still alive," he said. Cynder smiled and nodded, while Spyro mulled it over for a few seconds.

"How can we be sure that you won't hurt us?" he asked, wanting to make sure that the two of them would be safe. As he said those words, Cynder turned and growled at him.

"Spyro!" she hissed, wondering why he would say that in front of someone who was trying to help them. If he kept this up then they might not welcomed to the avian's village.

To her surprise however, the eagle simply nodded his head, understand why Spyro was asking such a question.

"I understand why you might ask that. Parts of Malefor's army still roam these parts, and he has been known to enslave other races to do his bidding for him," he said. Both dragons growled at the thought; those enslaved by Malefor suffered terrible punishments for not doing what the Dark Master wanted. It was a fate you wouldn't want to wish on anyone.

"But I swear on the Gods that I and my tribe mean you no harm. In fact, you inadvertently saved us several months ago when you drove out that large Ape and Gnorc army," said Markavir, smiling. The army of Apes and Gnorcs that Malefor had sent into this part of Avalar were ordered to tear down the entire forest for wood to use for their military machine.

Spyro grinned when he heard that. He, Cynder, and his friends Flame and Ember were tasked by the Guardians to stall the advance of that army until reinforcements could arrive and help out. There were over a thousand of both species in that army, along with their support units and machines to clear out any natives in the forest.

Six hours after the fighting began, the reinforcements arrived to find the entire army completely decimated. Several square miles of forest were destroyed in the battle, and the four dragons were asleep for nearly a week from exhaustion. What would've taken a large force of several hundred dragons and Throan (the name of the many non-feral forms of felines, canines, and other broad names of species) nearly a day to defeat took only six hours with four powerful teenage dragons.

Questions had been raised about how Flame and Ember were able to keep up with both Spyro and Cynder, but many simply chalked it up to the two having been touched by the Gods. Of course, Spyro and Cynder knew why their friends were incredibly powerful, but were sworn to secrecy about it.

"We are very grateful for your assistance there, and I can promise you that your visit will be well-received by the other townsfolk," continued Markavir. He shifted his weight to his other foot and leaned against his staff, looking into the eyes of both dragons.

"So, what'll it be? Come with us for some warm food and a place to rest or stay here on the valley floor and freeze? It gets pretty damn cold in the valley at night, as you can probably already tell." Both dragons had already noticed that it was cold outside when they had exited the cave, but it wasn't until now that they realized just how _cold _it really was.

They could see their breath in the air, and the outer edges of their scales were beginning to get quite chilly. If they slept out here tonight it was possible that they wouldn't make it to morning.

The two dragons glanced at each other before looking back at Markavir. They nodded their consent and Markavir smirked. He let out a sharp whistle from his beak, and each soldier straightened up before falling into a formation behind Markavir. The golden eagle turned to his men, his back to the dragons.

"Holicer and Yerpa," he called, and two avians appeared in front of the eagle. The two saluted at Markavir. "Hurry back to Orkirm and alert the elders that we've found the two dragons Warfang is searching for. When you are done, head to the dining house and have the chefs prepare some warm foods for our friends."

"Yes sir!" the hawks replied. They turned and ran across the field before leaping into the air, powerful wings propelling them off the ground and up above the treetops. Spyro and Cynder watched them go, their feathered forms quickly disappearing in the dark night.

Markavir's voice pierced through the night as he ordered his men to get into an escort formation around the two dragons. They complied, and in a matter of seconds Spyro and Cynder were encompassed on all sides by the strong avian warriors. Markavir stood at the head of the diamond formation, his staff at his side.

"Alright, let's head out! Keep your heads on a swivel, and alert me if you see or hear anything out of the ordinary!" commanded Markavir as he addressed his troops. A chorus of "Yes sir!"'s were heard as the troops responded to their commander. They started marching forward, moonlight reflecting off their armor and bladed staffs.

Spyro and Cynder followed Markavir, the large golden eagle leading the way into the forest. As they reached the edge of the valley and neared the forest the dragons realized just how large the trees above them were. Rising almost a thousand feet above the ground, the massive Marwood trees were some of the largest in the world. Their bases were almost 60 feet wide, around the same size as the wingspan of an adult male dragon.

Looking up, the dragons could see the trees towering above the, seemingly curving upwards to the stars. One of the Celestial Moons, Nayar, was peeking out in the gaps between the trees, and shafts of soft moonlight filtered through the leaves.

The sounds of the forest could be heard all around them: the crickets chirping, the hooting of owls as they searched for prey, the mice squeaking as they darted through the bushes, and the rustling of leaves on the wind.

"So, where exactly are we?" asked Spyro, interrupting the peaceful serenity of the forest.

"You're in the Vryhim forest, Northern Avalar. We're quite close to the Artisan homeland as well," replied Markavir from over his shoulder. Spyro and Cynder's eyeridges shot up at the word. The Artisans! They remembered Cyril teaching them about that particular type of dragon, and how most of the dragons around the world were Artisans.

Still, their minds reeled as they absorbed the information. Gitria was fairly far away from Warfang: almost 440 miles from the ancient city. The distance between Warfang and the Mountain of Malefor, which was south of Warfang, added almost another 100 miles. How far had they traveled into the planet to come out so far away from their home?

"How close are we talking about?" asked Cynder.

Markavir cocked his head, calculating the distance. It was silent in the forest as Markavir thought, the only noise coming from the shuffling of the avians' metal armor.

"I'd say… about 136 miles from the edges of the city. We're in Artisan territory right now," replied Markavir several seconds later.

"Are there any other villages nearby?" asked Spyro as he stepped onto a patch of dry leaves.

"There's another avian village about 20 miles north of here, and a Canine town 52 miles south. And, well, there is a Dragon village three miles south-east of here, but…" Markavir trailed off.

"But what?" Spyro asked, curious about Markavir's tone.

"Let's just say that we aren't on the friendliest of terms with them right now," responded Markavir. His wings sagged slightly as he spoke, unhappy memories rushing into his head.

"What do you mean?" Spyro continued as the eagle led them over to a large tree. Gnarled roots were spread out in a large radius around the massive trunk, and hundreds of acorns lined the ground around them.

"...I'll tell you two about that later," he said, and halted in front of the tree. The dragons and their escort stopped right behind him, "Because we've reached the base of our village."

Looking up, Spyro and Cynder saw that the tree rose high into the air, and they could faintly make out the edges of wooden platforms several hundred feet above them. Spyro glanced around, trying to find another way up, as neither of them wanted to fly anytime soon.

"All that's left to do is fly up," said Markavir as he turned to face the escort. He gave a subtle nod, and the avians sheathed their weapons onto their backs. They spread their wings and quickly flew towards the tree canopy, leaving Markavir with the two dragons on the ground.

Right as the other avians took off, the two avians that Markavir had sent ahead of the group returned, each of them holding a handful of glowing green gems. They softly landed on the grass, and presented the gems to both dragons.

Spyro and Cynder reached out to the gems, which suddenly leapt from the scaly hands of the avians and began swirling around the dragons. Green energy flowed from the gems and into their scales, invigorating them and giving them a much needed energy boost.

There weren't enough green gems to bring back their powers, but it was enough to make them feel refreshed and allow them to briefly fly. They wouldn't be able to fly very far, but thankfully they wouldn't have to.

The two dragons flapped their wings several times, getting the kinks and soreness out of their systems. When they were ready, the dragons signalled Markavir. He nodded, and took off with the two soldiers by his side. Spyro and Cynder nodded to each other before flapping their wings and lifting off the forest floor.

They followed Markavir as they ascended into the air, keeping him in their sights as they moved between the large branches and thick leaves of the tree. Feeling the cool night air rush against their scales was nice, and helped them stay awake for a little longer.

The edges of wooden platforms were much more easily visible now, and the dragons could make out several tall shapes walking back and forth across them. 30 seconds later, they reached the platforms, and alighted onto the hardwood. Several avians, including Markavir, were already waiting for them on the platform.

As soon as their feet touched the wood, several magical orbs of light appeared a dozen feet above them, illuminating the figures in front of the dragons. Four large avians stood imposingly before them, eyeing them curiously.

The largest avian, a gigantic male Harpy Eagle, stood in the center, flanked on either side by two large Great Gray Owls. Dressed in a dark yellow robe, the eagle's gray head seemed to absorb the light from the orbs, which accented the black wings folded against his back. A female Phoenix stood at his side, a night-dress wrapped around her slender red body.

Spyro and Cynder's tails nervously swung back and forth as they were examined by the eagle and his mate.

"Are these the dragons I was told about, Captain?" asked the large eagle. His deep voice reminded the dragons of Terrador, who was one of the largest dragons that they knew. If this eagle was anything like Terrador, stern and caring, then they could get along with him easily.

"Yes sir. These are Spyro and Cynder, the dragons that Warfang has been searching for," replied Markavir. He stood to the left of the dragons, staff at his side. The eagle

grunted and stared at the two dragons intently, almost as if he was trying to stare into their souls. The two dragons stood their ground, not intimidated by the tall avian.

In truth, the large bird was judging them, trying to figure out if these dragons were actually the ones who saved the world. His red-eyed gaze washed over them, before he nodded to himself.

"I see. Well then," he said, raising his arms out to either side of his body, "Welcome to Orkirm, Spyro and Cynder. I am Matton, the Chief of our little village in the trees." His beak curled up in a warm smile as he greeted the dragons.

The dragons tiredly nodded their thanks and the red Phoenix walked forward. She leaned down to their level and smiled a gentle smile before speaking.

"I'm Dawn, Matton's mate," she introduced herself, bowing to the two dragons. As she walked into the better lighting, they could see that she was quite beautiful. Her plumage was downy and soft, and a golden pair of wings rested against her back. She had a pair of pretty yellow eyes, which accented the red feather on her chest.

"You two must be very hungry. Come- follow us to the dining hall. There is a warm meal waiting for you two," she said, her soft voice soothing the two dragons. Both dragons' stomachs grumbled at the word 'food', and they gave sheepish grins.

The Phoenix giggled, while Matton and Markavir chuckled. Dawn turned around and started walking to one of the bridges, and Matton quickly followed suit. Not sure of what else to do, Spyro and Cynder went after them, with Markavir and the guards bringing up the rear.

As the dragons reached the lit-up bridge they gasped as they saw wooden houses and huts built into the trees, spreading out across the large Marwoods as far as the eye could see. Long, narrow bridges connected the houses to each other, and provided an easy means to traverse across the distance between the trees.

They stepped onto the bridge, which swayed slightly. The motion initially startled Spyro and his black companion, and they briefly stopped and waited for it to stop. When it did they walked slowly, looking down below them. They found it hard to judge the distance to the ground, thanks to the large branches obscuring their vision and the lack of light penetrating the canopy.

The circular houses were built around the trunk of the tree, and were supported by large, thick buttresses underneath the platforms that dug into the trees thick bark. The roofs were made of criss-cross beams and large piles of leaves placed over one another, giving them great strength and fairly good protection from the elements.

They could see lights inside some of the houses, including some far off in the distance. It made the forest look like the night sky, the lit-up houses looking like stars in the inky blackness of space. The forest of houses stretched on into the distance, like a floating wooden city.

"A wonderful sight, isn't it?" pondered Markavir, who walked the behind dragons. They nodded. This village in the forest was very peaceful, almost as if there was some magic in it that made it so serene.

The serenity was cut short by Spyro's grumbling stomach. He blushed underneath his scales, turning them a lighter shade of purple. Cynder gave him a playful glare while Markavir chuckled, an odd sound to hear from a bird.

"Sorry, we haven't had much to eat all day," Spyro explained. Markavir simply nodded, and they continued across the rickety bridge. It held as they continued across, a chilling breeze descending from the sky and buffeting the bridge with a soft wind. It was exceptionally cold, and made the two dragons shiver. They were thankful that they decided to follow Markavir, as it was likely freezing down in the valley below them.

Matton and Dawn were waiting for them when they finally reached the other side. They stood in front of a large hut that went around the entire tree, and looked like it could easily house dozens of avians. Magical light orbs were placed all around the building, and several lights inside the structure were currently lit.

A cardinal stood next to the leaders of Orkirm, a pair of robes folded neatly in her hands. A grey cloak descended from her shoulders, hiding all but but her red and black feathered head.

Spyro and Cynder stepped onto the platform surrounding the building, their claws clacking against the wood. As they neared the Chief and his mate, the cardinal bowed, presenting the two garments to the dragons. Spyro and Cynder were confused, and looked to Matton for an explanation.

"Unfortunately, our tables and houses are not designed for quadrupeds," said the Chief, gesturing to the doors in behind them. Looking at it, the two dragons found that he was correct: the door just wasn't wide enough for them to fit through.

"You are going to have to shift your forms, and put these on," Matton continued, taking one of the robes from the hands of the cardinal. He held to chest height and let it unfold in front of them. As it unfolded, they saw that the grey robe had nothing special on it; no delicate trims or other colors were on present on the robe.

They looked soft though, with holes for their wings and tails, and appeared to be quite thick. They would be useful for shielding them from the cold, and at this point in time that was really all that mattered.

"These will help keep you warm, as it's going to get quite chilly," said Matton as Dawn grabbed the other robe from the hands of the cardinal. With a nod from Dawn, the cardinal bowed again before flying off to her home in the trees. "It is also customary for those living in the village to wear clothing of some sort when in a public building, similar to the customs of dragon settlements."

The two dragons nodded, and shifted to their bipedal forms. A flash of light later and they stood on two legs, tails quickly wrapping around their bodies to keep them warm and keep their genitals hidden. Matton handed the robe in his hands to Spyro, Dawn doing the same to Cynder.

The robes felt soft underneath their sensitive hand scales, and they quickly donned them, taking a couple tries to get their arms, legs, wings, and tail through the right holes. Immediately after putting on the robes they felt their body temperatures rise, the loose cloth acting as a thick blanket between them and the cold.

The two dragons tied their robes, and presented themselves to the avians. Matton nodded, and signaled to one of the guards by the door of the dining room. The guard saluted before pulling open one of the doors for the Chief and his guests. A heavenly scent wafted out of the building, immediately catching the interest of the two dragons. The smell of warm food enticed them, and seemed to beckon them inside the room.

Matton gestured towards the open door before walking inside, the two dragons and the escorts quickly following. Upon entering they were blasted with a sudden warmth. Five magical fires, their blue and red flames flickering through the darkness, were placed around the room.

The interior of the dining room was quite spacious, appearing as if it could hold at least several dozen adult dragons. The tree that supported the building sprouted through the center of the floor, and what appeared to be the kitchen encircled the trunk. Perches, seats, and tables were placed along the walls of the room and the tree, and almost all of them were filled with avians.

There were tables and chairs on the wooden floor as well, these ones taking up more space and designed for larger groups of people. They circled around the room, with aisles going in between them to make it easier to reach the kitchen. Avians walked to and fro between the aisles, many carrying trays of hot food.

Hundreds of birds sat at the tables and perches. The room was filled with the din of their cooing, cawing, warbling and whistling. As Spyro and Cynder took a step forward their scent hit the noses of several avians, who quickly turned and stared at them.

Other avians began to notice as well, and in a matter of seconds all eyes in the dining room were on the two dragons. The cacophony of voices halted. Spyro and Cynder didn't notice, and even if they did, they wouldn't care much. They got these kinds of stares everywhere they went.

The smells of roasted meat and cooked vegetables reached their nostrils as they walked in. Strong, delectable scents waffed from the kitchen in front of them, making their mouths water and stomachs grumble.

The wooden floorboards creaked as the group walked down the aisle to the serving area. Avians moved out of the way of the Chief as he led the way. The smells of food got stronger, and the two dragons could see several avian chefs in the kitchen. Circling around the kitchen windows was a wooden counter with platters of steaming hot food resting on the top.

Both dragons licked their muzzles as they took in the sight of cooked dark meat, vegetables, and fruits of various types spread out along the counter. They walked slightly faster, already anticipating the wonderful smelling food in their stomachs. Heads turned and continued to eyeball them, but stopped when they noticed Matton leading them.

Matton stopped several feet away from the counter and turned to face them. Spyro and Cynder stopped, peering around the burly avian to glimpse at the food behind him. They both let out quiet groans. The food smelled so delicious!

Matton waved off the two guards, who turned around and walked back up the aisle to stand watch by the door while Markavir sauntered over to an empty table near one of the fires. By this time most of the avians went back to their food. Events like this weren't common, but if their leader was okay with it then it probably wasn't too much of a problem.

Dawn saddled up to the side of her mate as Matton pointed at the food platters. The dragons followed his finger to the objects next to the food.

"There's some plates and utensils next to the food, along with a couple trays. Meet us by the table over there," he pointed to the table where Markavir sat, "When you are done. We'll eat and you can tell us about your fight against Malefor."

The eagle walked away, Dawn's scaled hand entwined with his own. As they made their way toward the table Spyro and Cynder all but leapt at the food. They each grabbed a tray and several plates before dumping the contents of the platters onto their plates. They laughed in happiness; they were finally getting food!

They crammed as much food onto the trays and plates as was possible. Cooked fish, venison, mashed potatoes, bread, hare, spinach, and more items they didn't recognize. Their trays soon overflowed with food from the counter, enough that they had some trouble balancing the trays on one hand as they grabbed cups of water.

They were practically drooling now; the wonderful smells of the food made their stomachs grumble non-stop and mouths water.

When they were finally done with picking out their food they hurriedly walked over to the table. Spyro had to hold himself back from just eating his food in the middle of the aisle.

They sat down at the table and, out of respect, waited for Matton to give them permission to eat. They gazed at him with longing eyes before he nodded. The dragons quickly dug into their food, and made perhaps the largest mess Matton had ever seen.

The two dragons didn't use utensils to cut the meat; they opted instead to use their sharp claws and teeth to tear and shred the venison before gulping it down. Their eyes widened at the taste: it was delicious! They shoved more food into their mouths, little pieces of meat and vegetables sticking to the scales around their lips.

They forgot about their previous troubles of the day: the flight to the valley, their expedition into the weird temple underneath the mountain, and Spyro nearly dying thanks to whatever happened down in that place. All they focused on was the hot food in front them, and the feeling in their stomachs as they scarfed it down.

Matton and Dawn watched in surprise as the two dragons ate. They had never seen a dragon eat like this before, especially such respectable ones like Spyro and Cynder. Realizing just hungry the teens were, they held back their questions, waiting until the dragons were done with their meal.

Markavir sat back in his chair with a smirk. The dragons stomachs had rumbled non-stop on the walk to the base of the tree, and he could only imagine the joy that they were feeling while devouring their food.

He waited, anxious to start talking to the two dragons about their experiences in the war, for his own experiences still lay heavily in his mind.

Thoughts about the war and its effect on the village crossed through the eagle's head. He wasn't a native to Orkirm; rather, he and his mother had fled their previous village when the war had reached it. 18 years ago, dark beings serving under the Ape King Gaul raided the village and left nearly all of its inhabitants dead for not bowing to the forces of the Malefor.

His father, Korvin, a Peregrine falcon, had died trying to defend him and his mother from a pair of dark drakes that had sided with Malefor. Markavir hadn't seen the point at which his father was struck down but scouts who returned to the village found his body covered with burn marks and deep stab wounds.

His mother died not long after while they were searching for food in the forest. Ambushed by several apes under the command of Gaul, Lopera, his mother, had her throat slit while Markavir was held back by the apes.

He would have been killed too, if it weren't for the sudden intervention by a squad of avian warriors led by Matton. They had surrounded and killed the apes with bows and

staffs before the apes even knew what was happening. Markavir even remembered how he was rescued: Matton had dropped down from the tree above the Ape that was holding him hostage and tore his head off with his foot talons.

Matton was only a Captain back then, but Markavir had looked up at him with awe and reverence at the budding leader. He was taken in by the village of Orkirm, who sheltered the still-grieving eagle that had just lost his parents and village. Not long after, he joined the Orkirm Guards in the fight against Malefor and his army of darkness.

He had fought against apes, dragons, moles, rats, avians, canines, felines, and many others who threatened the safety of the forest and those around it. He had heard of the deeds of Spyro and Cynder, and was greatly inspired by their achievements. He had thought of them as wise, kind, and well-mannered.

He obviously had never seen just how voracious the appetite of a starving dragons was.

He continued to reminisce as Spyro and Cynder began finishing up their food, their bellies finally feeling full. He looked at their plates, and his eyes nearly shot out of his head after looking at how little food was left on their plates.

The two dragons had started with enough food to feed two adult avians separately. Now, there were only a couple scraps of food left. Markavir knew about just how large the appetites of dragons could get, but never expected it to be this big.

Both dragons noticed that they ate more than most dragons their age, but simply chalked it up to their encounter with the crystal in that chamber underneath the mountain. They moved sluggishly now, their limbs feeling heavy as the food set

Cynder burped loudly, eyes widened in surprise as she covered her mouth with her claw. Spyro and Markavir chuckled as the Chief and his mate recoiled at the noise. Savior of the world or not, that wasn't how a dragoness acted!

Cynder apologized sheepishly, silently letting out another burp as her stomach gurgled from the food. She pushed her tray of food to the side and leaned back in her chair, already feeling tired. Spyro copied her movements and placed his scaly purple hands behind his neck. He closed his eyes, content with his warm meal. All he wanted to do now was go to sleep.

"Ahem."

Spyro opened his eyes and both dragons looked over to where the sound had come from: Matton. The eagle was resting his head on his interlaced fingers, eyes darting between the two dragons. His beak was twisted into a frown.

"When the dragon scouts came by, asking about your location, they mentioned that there were three dragons," he started. Spyro's face hardened at the words. "One black dragoness, one purple dragon, and an old fire drake."

Spyro shifted uncomfortably in his seat until Cynder laid a paw a comforting paw on his shoulder. Matton was going to ask about Ignitus and where he was. The pain of losing the old Fire Guardian was still fresh in their minds, and they tried not to think about it too much.

Spyro had taken his death hard, and was still trying to cope with the loss of his mentor and father figure. Why didn't they just turn back? If they had just turned around and waited Ignitus could have regained his strength and they could have found another way around!

_Spyro... Cynder... I've never done right by either of you. Allow me to do this... _

"They said he was accompanying the two younger dragons on their way to Malefor," continued Matton. Spyro looked down towards his lap, tears forming in the corners of his purple eyes as the memories of Ignitus came flooding back to him. Teaching him how to fly, how to fight, how to be a dragon.

"And yet, I only see the two young dragons," Matton said. Cynder stroked Spyro's shoulder. She too had fond memories of the Fire Guardian. Aside from Spyro, he was the first to forgive her of what she had done. He had realized that Cynder wasn't in control of all the evil she had done.

_My path ends here. But yours lies beyond this. Draw strength from each other and follow your heart... it will never fail you. Now go... go... GO! _

The eagle leaned forward, his stern gaze directed at the dragons in front of him. His tone changed to one of concern. Cynder looked into the eagle's eyes. Matton could see the despair in them, and could already figure out what happened. Still, it would be better to hear it from the young saviors of the world.

"What happened? Where's Ignitus?" he asked. Dawn and Markavir watched as Spyro struggled to make out the words.

_Spyro, when a dragon dies, he does not truly leave this world. His spirit lives on, binding itself with nature, offering hope for the future..._

"He-He didn't make it," Spyro said, his voice cracking slightly. He looked up at the avians, his gaze going between the three of them. He reached up to his shoulder and grabbed Cynders paw, holding it in his own.

"Ignitus died while getting us through the Ring of Annihilation. Without him, we wouldn't have been able to reach Malefor and stop him," Cynder solemnly explained. A tear trailed its way down her cheek, leaving a streak of wet scales on her cheek.

Matton sat silently for several seconds, taking in the information. He and his fellow avians could tell that this wasn't something either dragon liked to bring up. He knew what that was like, having lost his mother and father in the war.

"I see," the large eagle said, his eyes shifting downwards. A heartbeat later, he looked back up at the two dragons. They were leaning against each other, Spyro crying while Cynder did her best to comfort him.

"I'm sorry for your loss," consoled Matton. The two dragons looked up to see Dawn and Markavir nodding in agreement. "I may not have known him personally, but I have heard the tales and stories of his actions. He will be remembered."

Spyro solemnly nodded, doing his best not to start sobbing. Cynder wrapped her arms around the purple dragon, holding him tight and letting his tears drip onto her robe. She said no words, just letting her lover cry into her shoulder for a couple minutes.

"If there is anything you need, just let us know," continued Matton. The purple dragon pulled away from Cynder, leaving a dark spot on her robe where his tears had been absorbed by the fabric. He nodded at Dawns words, but aside from food, shelter, and a place to sleep there wasn't much he needed from the avians.

He was doing his best to calm himself down, thinking about all the good times he had with Ignitus. Times when the red fire drake would crack a joke or two to cheer up Spyro and his friends after a hard battle. Times when he would teach the young dragons a valuable lesson about the world. Times when they acted like father and son..

That last part was what hit Spyro the hardest. Spyro never knew his father. Flash had done what he could, but a dragonfly, no matter how large or strong, could not properly raise a dragon. That was why Spyro instantly felt a bond between him and Ignitus: the Fire Guardian had filled that hole inside Spyro; the one that only a parent could fill.

Spyro knew that Ignitus wasn't his father, but he was the closest thing he had to one.

"As long as you remember him Spyro he will never die," said Dawn. Spyro looked up at the phoenix with teary eyes, who reached across and cupped his chin with her hand. "Wherever he is, I am sure he is proud of what you and Cynder have achieved."

Dawn rubbed Spyros cheek, her touch as soft as silk. He leaned into the touch. The purple dragon liked the feeling, and was sad when she withdrew. He felt better when Cynder put her arm around his neck, pulling him closer to her.

"Th-thank you," Spyro humbly stated.

"Let's talk about something more pleasant. Get our minds off the past," Markavir said. Spyro nodded, feeling better from the support of those around him. He wiped away the tears from his eyes, flicking the liquid onto his robe.

"That-that sounds good," Spyro agreed, pushing away the thoughts of Ignitus. He sat up straight, expression turning serious again as he focused on the bird in front of him. Cynder copied his movements, assuming the same position as the purple dragon.

"So. Why don't you tell us about your battle against the Dark Master?" he asked. Spyro and Cynder immediately glanced at each other, wondering how they were going to answer that. What part was he talking about? How much did he want to know?

"Do you mean the war or our fight against Malefor at the Temple?" Spyro wondered.

"The fight. We had heard from Warfang that you two had set out to fight Malefor in the old Dragon Temple," Matton clarified. He paused. "That was several weeks ago. I'm curious as to how it took you that long to defeat Malefor."

Spyro's eyeridge furrowed as Cynder leaned forward in her chair. Several weeks? It seemed like only several days had passed from when they had left Warfang to putting the world back together.

"How long ago did you say?" Cynder asked, hoping that Matton was wrong. If they were gone for several weeks then the Guardians must have thought they were dead!

"Almost three weeks. When you didn't return a couple days after the world was healed the Guardians apparently got worried and sent out several search parties around the planet. Aside from looking for any hiding villages and populations that had survived Malefor's wrath, they were also supposed to keep an eye out for you two," Matton explained.

"What's the date?" Spyro asked. He, Cynder, and Ignitus (the mere thought of the dragon sent a shiver down his spine) had all left Warfang only five days before the era would end.

"It's Aas 16th," Dawn spoke up. The two teenage dragons visibly recoiled upon hearing those words. They hadn't expected to be gone that long!

"Aas 16th?!" they exclaimed, astonished. The two avians watching guard by the doors glanced at the table when they heard the outburst.

"Yep. Welcome to the 77th era, year 0," greeted Markavir. There were looks of shock on Spyro and Cynder's faces. They had told their friends and the other Guardians that they would only be gone for a week at the most, not three!

'_We _really _need to get back to Warfang then'_, thought Spyro. '_Flame and Ember and the Guardians may think we're dead'._ While Spyro thought about how important it was for them to return home, Cynder was thinking about whether they should even _return_ home.

Matton watched the two dragons absorb this information. It might not have been the best action to tell them so soon, but they would eventually have to find out sooner or later.

"I know that this might be hard to take in, but it's the truth," Dawn spoke up. Spyro and Cynder snapped out of their slight daze, fixing their gaze on the Phoenix. "You two have been gone for several weeks, and all of us were wondering what was taking so long."

Spyro searched his memory. He remembered the conversation he had had with Cynder right after Malefor had been pulled into the core. He remembered beginning the process of rebuilding Aslore and hearing Cynder whisper to him. Unfortunately, he couldn't recall anything else after that, only finding himself and Cynder out on the soft grass in some valley.

Cynder tried as well, with the same amount of luck. She remembered a bright purple light emanating from Spyro before whispering him her words. After that it was all a blur; she could only recall a flowing sensation, and feelings of being taken apart and put back together again.

"Do you remember anything?" Dawn gently asked. The dragons simply shook their heads. Try as they might, they couldn't remember what had happened in the core of the planet.

The avians frowned. They had hoped that the dragons would remember something, but it wasn't necessary that they did. They just had to return the dragons to Warfang, and would then receive their reward.

"I'm sorry. But thankfully you two were somehow able to find your way back onto land. Perhaps the Gods had something to do with it," suggested Matton. The pair nodded. They wouldn't be surprised if the Aslorian Gods had stepped in to help them and provide the means for restoring the world. Everybody knew who they were, and that they were real.

Though they were curious as to why the Gods hadn't stepped in sooner to help them in the war against Malefor. The war itself had gone on for over seven hundred years, and generally the purple dragon was born every two hundred. Spyro and Cynder figured the Gods didn't step in because they were preoccupied with something, but that didn't explain why there hadn't been a purple dragon for almost six hundred years.

Markavir cleared his throat, catching the attention of the teenagers. He leaned forwards, gazing into the eyes of the dragons before him. He had many questions that he wanted to ask them, and he figured that this would be a good time to ask.

He wanted to hear some of the stories that the two had in their war against the Dark Master. After fighting him and his dark army they were bound to have stories and tales to tell about what they did.

"So. What was your final fight against Malefor like?" Markavir asked. The two dragons took a moment to think: it was hard to describe their fight against the Dark Master. That fight with Malefor had taken them all across the Realm: the forests of Avalar, the dry deserts of Cresshen, the wet swamps of Mimun, the high mountains of Imura, the floating islands Hefors, the Mountain of Malefor, the mind-boggling realm of Convexity, and finally to the core of Aslore itself.

Just thinking about the fight made them cringe; Malefor was extraordinarily powerful, using powers and abilities that seemed like they should only be used by the Gods. He would turn the very land against them, and commonly teleported them to areas where large battles between his armies and the natives of the lands were fighting.

So the dragons told them about their battle, starting from the moment they had passed through the Ring of Annihilation and had made their way through the Burned lands. They talked about how they fought their way through the horde of enemies and continued to the Floating Islands.

Malefor had pulled the old Dragon Temple out of its location in the swamp and used it as his lair. The birds listened intently as they heard about how high the dragons were up in the sky, how they could look on for miles in all directions. It had been breath-taking, seeing the city of Warfang in the distance, with the large Slyjarq Channel flowing behind it and into the forests.

When they got to the part entering the lair of the Dark Master Spyro and Cynder skipped over the part where Cynder was taken over by the darkness again. Instead, they told the avians that Malefor had gone into one of those "grand, cliche speeches where the villain says how awesome they are that you read about in books" before attacking them.

They spoke of how they started off the fight inside the volcano, with Malefor doing his best to cause it to collapse around them. They talked about how he tried to slam them into the walls, crush them with large boulders, and blast them with magma from the volcano.

The two dragons told the avians how they would be teleported around with Malefor, who would use all the elements Spyro and Cynder knew of against them. The Dark Master used several that they hadn't even knew existed, such as blasting them away with large gouts of water and firing bright white beams of energy at them.

Much of the fight was simply them dodging the attacks from the larger dragon and then counterattacking when they could. Malefor had a significantly larger energy reserve then they did and had far greater stamina. He would also create avalanches when they fought in the mountains near the home of the Magic crafters, gryphons, Dovah, and many other species that lived there.

When in the swamps he would create fog to confuse the two dragons and distract them with illusions. In the desert he would disappear under the sand and make the area incredibly dry, quickly tiring them out. The floating islands of Mimun were a particular challenge, thanks to the fact that they were miles off the ground and a strong blast by Malefor could cause their wings to lock up and they would plummet to their deaths.

They spoke of how they fought: fusing their elemental abilities with their strikes, delivering strong blows to Malefor and any minions that he summoned. They would leap, twirl, fly, shift forms, lash out, bite, claw, jump, and strike.

Markavir and the rest of the gathered avians listened in awe of the fight. They had heard of how well-trained the two young dragons were in combat and magic control, but they never knew that they were this good!

The avians were surprised when Cynder told them about being teleported into Convexity, the bridge between the Realm and those beyond it. Malefor would conjure up dark entities to attack the dragons while he attempted to rest. The dark beings were otherworldly, made of a mix of convexity and dark magic.

Eventually, they were able to chase Malefor out of Convexity and to a place none of them expected: the core of the world. Spyro and Cynder were exhausted, having fought for hours, while Malefor had a seemingly unending supply of energy. But the purple crystal that was the center of the planet had a surprise in store.

The avians were on the edge of their seats when the dragons spoke of how they nearly lost to him then and there. But just when it seemed like Malefor would win, powering up for a final blow against the teenage dragons, the spirits of the Gods rose up from the crystal. Malefor had never looked so afraid in his life, and was dragged kicking and screaming into the core, sealing him away forever.

Finally, the two dragons told the large gathering around them how they felt the world falling apart and not believing that they could save it in time.

"But then I heard the spirit of Ignitus talk to me, telling me how one's spirit never really dies, but stays in the world to guide others and offer a better future. That's when I knew that I could bring the world back together," Spyro said. Cynder quickly picked up where he left off.

"I tried to get him to leave, but he stayed and said that he knew how to save the world. Not wanting to leave him, I remained with him. We held hands, channelling our powers through our bodies and into the crystal. There was a bright purple flash of light, a sound of rushing air, and then everything went black," she finished, leaving out the part where she told Spyro her feelings for him.

"What happened next?" asked a gryphon. Spyro turned to him, noting how excited he looked about their story. His furry tail was lashing back and forth, accidentally hitting a dove behind him.

"We woke up in a valley. We didn't recognize where we were, but we didn't care. Cynder and I were just too happy to be done with the war, so we just flew around for a while, looking for a place to rest," he said. Satisfied with the answer, the gryphon nodded, and Spyro turned around to face Matton.

The large eagle was nodding his head at what Spyro said. "And how did you end up here?"

"Well, we slept in a field next to a waterfall that night. We woke up this morning, and realized just how exhausted we were from the fight. We didn't have very much to eat, just a deer and some berries, before washing up and taking a short nap," Spyro started. Matton nodded again, indicating the dragon to continue.

"We couldn't figure out what direction to go in, so we just chose one and decided to stick with it. We flew for hours without recognizing anything, so we eventually stopped at the bottom of those mountains," Spyro continued. He was definitely going to leave out the part where they found that doorway in the mountains.

"You mean the Stamips Peaks?" questioned Markavir. Both dragons shrugged, not knowing the names of anything around here and just going with what the bird said. Spyro let out a yawn as Cynder continued for him.

"I guess. We looked around at the bottom, tired and hungry, but we didn't find anything. We just stumbled around in this little field before Markavir's patrol found us," Cynder said, nodding her head towards the golden eagle. Matton looked at the Captain, his eyes seeming to ask '_is it true?'_.

Markavir nodded at the Chief, who turned back to the dragons. Satisfied with their tale he leaned back in his chair, and a brief pause filled the room.

"Anymore stories you got for us?" Dawn asked, eager to hear more tales and adventures of the two young dragons. However, at that moment, both dragons simultaneously yawned.

"We would, but both of us are just too tired to continue. Besides, we still need to get back to Warfang, and from what Markavir told me that's a pretty long flight," Cynder said, rubbing her eyes with her thumb and pointer claw.

"It is. We can figure out the details in the morning of how to get there. For now, you two should get some sleep. Gods know you need it," said Matton. The two dragons nodded their thanks.

"Follow Dawn and Captain Markavir. They'll take you to our guest house where you can spend the night. I'll start working on a list of things for you two for your journey back to Warfang," continued Matton, who gave a nod to his mate and the Captain. They stood up, Dawn remaining where she was as Markavir walked to the exit.

"Thank you for your hospitality. Matton," said Spyro as he stood up from his chair. Seeing that story time was over, the other avians soon returned to their own tables, resuming their previous conversations and finishing their now-cold meals.

Matton simply waved him off. "Think nothing of it. You two saved the world. The least our village can do to repay you is by helping you return home." His beak twisted into a warm smile, revealing the honesty in his words. It reminded the dragons of Ignitus, the way Matton's smile showed his underlying compassion and gratitude to the saviors.

"This way, young ones," said Dawn, who gestured to the exit. They nodded and said goodnight to Matton before following the phoenix out of the dining hall and back onto the wooden platform. Markavir was waiting for them with two guards at his side.

A cold wind rushed through the trees, prompting the gathered dragons and avians to tuck themselves further into their robes. It was very cold outside, and the dragon pair remembered what Markavir had said about the forest getting very cold at night.

Dawn began walking to one of the nearby rope bridges, causing the entourage to quickly follow. As they stepped onto it and began crossing, Spyro and Cynder noticed how quiet it was outside. There didn't seem to be many animals out, and the only sounds they could pick up was the wind rustling through the trees.

If they listened closely they might have heard the quiet squeaking of bats and the flutter of wings, but they were too distracted by talking with Dawn.

"So Dawn, how did you find this place?" Cynder asked, moseying up to the side of the phoenix. Dawn smiled at the question as the group came to another platform.

"Oh, it was about seven decades ago when I first came to the Vryhim forest," she responded. Both dragons raised their eyeridges, confused at her words. How was Dawn that old? She looked only 30!

"How…?" Spyro tried to ask, but his mind was too busy trying to figure out what she meant. The phoenix giggled as they stepped onto another bridge. The brown rope and wood bridge creaked as the group walked across.

"Why do I look so young? I went through my third incarnation about 40 years ago, around the time that Malefor was really pushing to take Warfang and use it as his fortress," Dawn explained. Spyro and Cynder nodded, understanding it now.

Everyone knew that Phoenixes could reincarnate around every thousand years, but were only able to do it three times in their entire lifespan. It kept them from becoming too old, and helped keep the population down.

"I was old, almost a thousand years, and upon the time when I would have to undergo my final incarnation. However, I had been attacked on my way to Warfang and was chased by a large group of apes into these forests," the phoenix continued. Crossing the bridge, the group walked onto another platform and walked around to the other side of the tree.

"I was cornered by the mountain, exhausted and about to erupt into flames, beginning my rebirth and making me vulnerable to the apes. They had me cornered, and were planning to… use me, before they would bring me before Malefor," Dawn said nonchalantly. Both dragons stopped in their tracks, prompting the guards to do so as well.

Noticing that her guests had stopped moving, Dawn stopped and turned around. Both dragons had a look of shock on their face.

"They wanted to rape you?!" they both exclaimed a little too loudly, accidentally rousing a couple avians and causing Dawn to cringe.

"Yes," Dawn responded, as if it didn't even matter to her. "But if they even tried they would have been roasted from my reincarnation. It was likely years since any of them had been with a female, and they were willing to try anything. And Malefor prized Phoenixs thanks to some of our unique abilities, specifically our reincarnation powers. But before they could touch me a band of avians from Orkirm descended from the sky like lightning, tearing apart the apes and driving them back. They brought me to the village, where I underwent my reincarnation and was born back into the world several months later."

Dawn turned the corner and began walking across another bridge. The group quickly crossed to the other side where Dawn continued her story.

"I hatched from my shell around the same time Matton did, and we quickly became close friends. He was the son of the previous leader, Corvin, and was next in line to be chief," she said.

"We grew up together, fighting off attempted invasions and attacks by Malefor's army and rival villages, and became mates around 15 years ago."

Both dragons nodded at the information. Both of them found it interesting to hear about the stories of others and how they got where they were.

"What did you do in your other incarnations?" asked Cynder. A phoenix like her, who had lived for several thousand years, probably had some interesting stories to tell. Dawn smiled at the ebony dragoness

"I can tell you more about them in the morning. Both of you look too tired to keep listening, and we've arrived," said the phoenix, stopping in front of a small hut that was built into the tree, just like all the others. There wasn't much special about it, other than the fact that it looked slightly bigger and had several more windows than the average hut.

"This is our guest room, where people and creatures from different cities rest when they are visiting or have to stop and briefly rest. There's not a whole lot in here, but it should be enough," Dawn said, opening up the door for the two dragons. They stepped inside and looked around as Dawn waved off the guards and Markavir. They nodded, bowed, and left as Dawn walked inside.

The room was small, only able to accommodate one or two avians, but Spyro and Cynder could work with it. They weren't expecting something fancy and proud, and frankly they didn't need one. Just having a room with a bed would make all the difference to them.

"I apologize for there not being two beds in this room, but I'm pretty sure you two will

only need one," Dawn said, Spyro and Cynder turning to look at her. The phoenix had a knowing smile on her face and she winked at the duo. The two dragons blushed crimson, thankful that the low-light made it hard to see their scales.

"Good night, and sleep well. You both need it. I'll see you, hopefully, in the morning," she said. Wrapping her cloak around her she stepped back out into the cold night and walked away, the sound of her claws tapping on the wood fading away.

The two dragons settled down into the room, exploring it and making sure it had everything that they would need.

Spyro lay down on the bed, looking up at the ceiling and the wood beams running through it. He was thinking about the events that had happened that day, from he and Cynder bathing in the waterfall (they should do that more often, but get a bit more involved in it), finding the temple inside the mountain, and their recent finding of the avian village.

Cynder, however, wasn't able to settled down. Her mind was racing with too many thoughts, especially the ones that she had earlier about Warfang. Unable to keep them inside any longer, she said them aloud to her companion.

"Spyro, do you think it'll really be good to return to Warfang?" she asked, avoiding his gaze and looking out the window towards the valley below. It was a question she had been pondering over ever since the two of them had defeated Malefor and saved the planet. She hadn't brought it up until now, unable to find the right time to discuss it with her lover.

Spyro frowned, confused by her question. Of course it would be good if they returned to Warfang! The Guardians needed their help with repairing the city, and both dragons still had a lot to learn about their respective elements.

"Uh, yeah. It's our duty to protect the people of Warfang, and the Guardians will need our help with putting the city back together. Why? Do you not want to go there?" he replied. He regarded her with a curious eye; this wasn't something that he thought Cynder would be doubting.

"Well, yes, but…" she let out a sigh, "I'm not really sure if it's necessary for us to go." Spyro was taken aback. Not necessary for them to return to Warfang? Was it because of that fear of hers?

'_You can't let your fears get the best of you, Cynder'_, thought Spyro. He really hoped it wasn't because of how she thought the people of Warfang would receive them. She had saved them so many times from death and invasion. Still, he had to ask.

"Cynder, if this is about your fear of-" began Spyro.

"No, it's not that. I can handle that as long as you're nearby. This is different," the black dragoness interrupted him. She sounded distant, as if she was trying to figure out how to say something. Spyro found this quite odd. If the problem wasn't her fear, then what was it?

A pregnant pause filled the room as Spyro stared Cynder, who continued to stare out the window. The purple drake sat up in the bed, his lips pursing as he waited for the dragoness to speak. Cynder moved her head so that she was gazing up at the twinkling stars far above the forest.

"So, what's the problem?" asked Spyro, breaking the silence between the two. Cynder turned around to face him, looking downtrodden as she gazed into his amethyst eyes.

"It's just…" Cynder said before trailing off, still unsure as to how to tell Spyro her thoughts. She looked away, staring over at one of the paintings hung on the far wall. Spyro cocked his head.

"Yeah?"

Cynder took a second to collect her thoughts, taking a deep breath before asking Spyro a question that she didn't know how he would respond.

"Don't you think we deserve, you know, a break or something for defeating Malefor and restoring the planet?" she questioned. She looked into his eyes, watching to see how he would react.

Spyro furrowed his eyeridges, unsure as to what she meant. A break? A break from what?

"What do you mean?" he asked her. The dragoness nervously scratched her cheek, absentmindedly rubbing over the spot where a new horn was growing in. She placed her hand on the windowsill and leaned against the wall.

"I mean, what if we just wandered around, not going to any populated area, and just live by ourselves for a while? Not for too long; maybe just a couple years," she said.

'I… I don't know. I mean," Spyro scratched the back of his head, "the world still needs us."

"I know that, but I just think we deserve a break from all this fighting. The Guardians are in Warfang, and should be able to lead the city for a while."

"I-I don't know, Cynder," Spyro said. He yawned and rubbed his eyes, looking over at Cynder again. "Can we talk about this in the morning? I'm too tired to continued this conversation."

"Yeah. Sorry, it was just something I had on my mind," Cynder said as she walked over to the bed and crawled onto it. Spyro gave her a tired smile.

"It's okay. I know you think about things like this, but don't let them get the best of you. Go to sleep," he said, laying his head on the pillow and gazing into Cynder's emerald eyes. He reached up and rubbed her cheek before giving her a quick kiss on the lips.

"Good night, Cynder," he said. The black dragoness smiled back at him, her pearly white teeth easily visible in the dark. She gave him another kiss on the lips.

"Good night Spyro," she said, before resting her forehead on his and closing her eyes. She hummed, the vibrations reverberating through Spyro and lulling him to sleep. He wrapped his arms around his love, pulling her close to him. He inhaled her scent, the sweet aroma filling his nostrils as his eyes flickered close.

The events of the day finally catching up to them, the two dragons drifted off to sleep in each others arms.

* * *

"They tried to remember."

"I know. We can't let them know about what happened just yet. It's still too early."

"When should we tell them?"

"I don't know. We might have to discuss this with the others and see what they think."

"I fear that letting the others know might cause them to act preemptively."

"They will be angry if we don't tell them and they find out about what we did to them."

"Then let them be angry. We can't tell them just yet. We still need to know what that vision was about and just what it will mean for us."

"Do you find it odd that something has occurred on _our_ Realm that we know absolutely nothing about?"

"Yes, but we must not dwell on it. That vision has too many meanings, and we should take it slow with trying to deal with it."

* * *

**Also, as you obviously read, I decided to make the final battle against Malefor much more interesting. Don't get me wrong: the fight at the end of DotD was fun, but I felt that it lacked scale.**

**The creators make out Malefor as this large, powerful dragon who could basically route entire armies by himself. So, why not give him powers to use against our heroes to make it a harder fight? I really liked the idea of Malefor teleporting them around the planet and fighting them in different environments.**

**There are going to be even more AU parts to this story. I'm setting this story up so that it eventually combines StD with TLoS, with some other fun aspects. You'll see what I mean in about two chapters. **

**I'm going through an entire world-building process with this story. The Spyro games, oth the original and TLoS, had fun gameplay and characters, but they really lacked lore and other species. So, I'm taking it upon myself to create a very mythical and fantastical world. **

**IMPORTANT!**

**Here's the months for Aslore:**

**Aas = January**

**Yiln = February**

**Maur = March**

**Qlist = April**

**Criw = May**

**Exard = June  
Gecus = July**

**Ikall = August**

**Sruln = September**

**Druvirt = October**

**Frurst = November**

**Karis = December**

**Season of Earth = Spring**

**Season of Fire = Summer**

**Season of Wind = Fall/Autumn**

**Season of Ice = Winter**

**Same number of days per month (ex: 31 days in January/Aus, 30 days in April/Qlist, etc.).**

**There are going to be other characters in the future from other franchises but the story won't be considered a full-on crossover. Some will have important roles, but the story won't fully focus on them. **

**Characters that are © Activision (that have been shown):**

**Spyro**

**Cynder**

**Ignitus/The Chronicler**

**Flame**

**Ember**

**Characters that are © me:**

**Markavir**

**Matton**

**Dawn**

**Jalcino**

**Don't forget to review!**


	5. Arc 1: Chapter 4: The Raid

**So chapter 4 was supposed to be longer, but it got to the point where it was getting too long. So, I decided to split the chapter in half, meaning we won't be able to get to the fun parts as soon as I would like. The good news is I'll post the next chapter pretty soon in comparison to this one, maybe in a week or two. **

**Warning: This chapter contains an adult scene. Viewer discretion is advised.**

**Music for this chapter: Cobblestone Village and Dragon's Lair by Brandon Fiechter.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Legend of Spyro and its characters. They belong to Activision. **

**I own my characters and the plot.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

_Aas 17th, Season of Ice, Year 0, 77th age_

_Orkirm Village, Vryhim Forest, Avalar, Aslore_

_7:42 AM_

Light from the golden sun shone down on the forest of Vryhim, illuminating the trees and rousing the inhabitants of the forest from their sleep. Dew covered the leaves and glistened in the morning light. The soft sounds of animals and insects going about their morning business soon filled the air.

Water trickled down a stream that cut right through the forest floor, and some creatures came out of the burrows to drink in the cold water. Many still hibernated in their dens, waiting for warmer weather before coming out. Some called out into the green underbrush, summoning others to places of food or locating their family.

A soft breeze swept through Orkirm, bringing with it the calls of the wild and the scents of food from the kitchen. It roused the villagers from their sleep, and within the course of the next hour hundreds of avians got up from their perch or bed and flew over to the dining room. They enjoyed a wide variety of foods, from nuts and berries to insects and meat.

After breakfast, many of them went about their daily business: children going to school, patrols being sent out, hunters taking their gear and heading to the valley, farmers checking their crops, and builders constructing new bridges and houses for the village.

All of them had a part to play in keeping the village running and stocking up on items incase of a raid or hard times fell upon the villagers.

But in the guest room, two sleeping figures still hadn't awoken. Tired from the last several weeks of fighting and flying they continued to snooze beneath the soft silken covers. Sunlight filtered through the window, shining onto the bed of the room, but it did not rouse the two dragons from their slumber.

Outside, Markavir fluttered down onto the wooden platform around the guest house, his gold and brown wings folding up against his back as he landed. The boards creaked slightly from his weight. He wore his regular guard outfit: a brown robe that reached from his shoulders down to his reversed knees, with a green sash wrapped around the waist.

White armor plating was strapped onto his shoulders, chest, legs, and arms. It was strong enough that it could deflect a blow or two from a regular blade, but wasn't able to stand up to repeated attacks. Instead, it was quite light, designed to give him large mobility while fighting.

His staff was strapped to his side, the separate parts folded up for easy carrying. His talons clacked against the wood as he walked towards the door of the guest house. He reached it in a few steps, and rapped his knuckles on the door.

"Spyro? Cynder? Are you two awake?" he asked loudly. He had been ordered by Matton to retrieve the two dragons and bring them to the dining hall for breakfast. After that they were to work with Dawn on getting some supplies ready for their journey back to Warfang.

There was no reply from the two sleeping dragons. He tried again, this time knocking much louder.

"Spyro! Cynder! You guys awake? It's time for breakfast!" he exclaimed. There was still no answer. Markavir frowned; he was ordered to bring the dragons to Matton, and he didn't want to disappoint his chief.

However, he could understand why they weren't up yet. They were incredibly tired from the events of the past several weeks, and would likely sleep for a while longer. That was okay, but it would reduce the time window they had for the journey to Warfang.

He pounded on the door, but to no avail. He sighed. He would let Matton know, and after that tell the kitchen to save some food for the tired dragons. It wouldn't be warm, as the kitchen staff left after everyone was done eating, but at least they would have something to eat.

"Look, I'll come back later on to check on you guys! We're currently getting some stuff ready for your flight back to Warfang, and we'll need you there!" he yelled. He received no reply, but he didn't need to. He walked to the edge of the platform and leaped off, on his way to tell Matton the news.

Inside the room, one of the forms stirred. The covers stirred as a scaly black head popped out from underneath. Twin emerald eyes blinked several times, and the figure let out a yawn, revealing her set of sharp white teeth.

The first feeling that Cynder had when she woke up was that of the sun shining through the trees, warming her ebony scales and relaxing her tired muscles. Her still-waking mind pondered what the time currently was, but soon gave up. The bed was nice and soft, and she easily sank into the comforting feeling. She found that she really didn't want to get up.

The second feeling was that of a large, warm presence in front of her, and two strong limbs wrapped her back. Her breasts was mashed up against the broad torso of another person, and she could feel the rising and falling of their chest as they breathed.

Turning her head to the side she saw the purple and golden figure of Spyro peacefully resting, light snores escaping his throat and sounding like he was purring. There was a light smile on his face, indicating he was having a good dream.

'_I hope it's something about me'_, thought Cynder. She had had her own good dream last night: she and Spyro, 10 years in the future, flying above Warfang together as mates. She smiled as she looked upon her purple savior.

Cynder had told Spyro how good it was that he had rescued her from the clutches of Malefor, but she had never told him exactly why, simply saying that it was terrible being under the Dark Master's influence.

Malefor wanted to make her his queen, yes, but what he really wanted was a dragoness to give him children. Children that he could mold and turn into dark dragons that would do his bidding. Children that would be the generals of his dark army, and destroy anything that stood in his path.

She was eternally grateful to Spyro for rescuing her from such a fate. To be the breeding toy of the Dark Master… she shuddered at the thought. She was far happier with Spyro and her friends, who she wouldn't trade for anything in the world.

She gave the sleeping dragon a kiss on his snout, who hummed slightly and shifted under the covers. She felt his tail felt unconsciously creep up between their bodies, and she touched it playfully, watching his expression.

A small smile made it way onto his lips again before he let it out in a big snort, causing the black dragoness to giggle. Cynder didn't know Spyro could be such a heavy sleeper! Usually on missions he was the first one up and getting ready for the day ahead.

_He must have been more exhausted than he realized_, thought Cynder. With yesterday's terrifying experience of having his own soul manipulated and brought back from the dead he probably felt like collapsing at any moment.

Cynder felt the purple dragon's tail press into the scales of her underbelly, and the black dragoness giggled at the sensation. However, his tail seemed to throb intermittently, and it didn't usually feel this soft and warm. Looking down, she blushed heavily as she realized what it was. Spyro's raging member was sitting right between, pulsing every second or so in rhythm with the purple dragons heart beat.

Cynder quickly got over her embarrassment, and soon became interested at the sight of the purple dragons member. She had seen it many times before, on hot days, when he was relieving himself, or pleasuring himself at night (she still couldn't get those scenes out of her head. Spyro had been quite embarrassed when she told him about it), but never this close up.

She had fantasized about it many times, especially during her heat cycle, but they had never come true. Now, with it so close to her…

She gazed over the purple, black, and gold spire of draconic flesh, noting its large length and girth (easily reaching up to his ribs) and how there were small barbs and ridges that ran up and down the shaft. Toothlike barbs lined along the underside of the large member, going from Spyro's golden slit to the tip of his penis. Small nubs ran along the top of his member, coinciding with the locations of the ridges on his draconic cock.

His large knot swelled at his base, and the mere sight of it made Cynder's eyes bulge. It was larger than her paw, and looked as if it could easily split a dragoness in two.

_I wonder how good that would feel inside_, she thought. Although she never told Spyro, there was no lying to herself: she wanted to feel that massive dragonhood inside her one day. Ever since she started loving him she wondered what her first time would be like with him.

However, it wouldn't be the best idea to mate with him right now. Both of them needed to get up and have breakfast, as Matton and Markavir were probably waiting for them.

_That doesn't mean I can't help him get up, however_, she thought with a grin. She would have a little bit of fun with the sleeping purple drake.

Grinning, she reached out with her paw and gently touched Spyro's large member. The first thing she noticed was how hot the flesh was to the touch. It was very warm, thanks to all the blood rushing to the phallus. The second thing she noticed was that the skin was firm but soft. She pressed into the skin, and Spyro moaned slightly in his sleep.

Cynder giggled, and grasped the drakes large member in her paw. She loved the feel of those barbs and ridges against the scales of her hand, and gently rubbed his cock.

Spyro let out another small groan and humped Cynder's hand in his sleep. Cynder took that as a sign to continued, and began pumping her hand up and down the multi-hued shaft. Pre spurted from his tip and onto the sheets and her forearm.

The drake hummed happily in his sleep as Cynder used her other hand to rub against the edges of his male slit. Spyro bucked at the touch of her hand against the sensitive scales and skin there, as the other continued to caress his dragonhood.

Cynder flicked the nubs and barbs along Spyro's member, finding the fleshy protrusions fascinating and wondering what they would feel like inside her. It apparently felt really good for Spyro, as the dragon let out another moan. Cynder honestly didn't know how the dragon was still asleep with all the ministrations she was giving him.

Cynder decided that she wanted some fun as well, and reached down between her thighs. Her vent was swollen and trickling feminine juices onto the sheets, and she dabbed a finger into her sex.

She shuddered at the pleasure that shot up her spine, letting out a low moan that coincided with Spyro. Cynder tightened her grip on Spyro's cock and pumped his dragonhood faster. She put another finger into her pussy, and teased her clit with her thumb.

She arched her back at the wonderful sensation, and felt a tingling sensation in her lower abdomen. She hadn't done this many times before, and her lack of experience showed in how early her orgasm was coming.

Unfortunately, this was the first time the purple dragon had ever felt someone else's paw on his dragonhood, and apparently didn't have much stamina. Spyro bucked one last time into Cynder's hand and let out a large groan as he came. The black dragoness watched in awe as large gushed of white seed spilled from his shaft, coating her hand and the sheets below in a layer of white.

Cynder cried out as her own orgasm wracked her body with pleasure. Her vent spasmed as her nectar flowed from her opening, joining Spyro's seed on the sheets. She breathed heavily as she removed her fingers from her vagina, a sticky line of feminine juices attached to them..

Spyro's semen kept coming and coming, each twitch of his shaft spurting out more of the stuff until the sheets were thoroughly soaked in the purple dragons essence. The strong scent of male musk filled Cynder's nostrils.

She scooped up a glob of the thick, white goo and put it in her mouth, swirling the substance around her tongue. It was salty and slightly tangy, but the taste grew on her and she soon found herself wanting more.

The flood of Spyro's sperm turned to a trickle after about half a minute. Cynder licked any remaining seed off her hand, making sure to get in between her scales. When she was done she looked over at Spyro and noticed that he was still asleep.

_Well, we can't have that, now can we?_ Cynder thought, a wide grin appearing on her face. The black dragoness kissed her love on the lips, deciding it was a good time for him to wake up. She swirled his tongue with hers, doing her best to have him taste his own seed.

Spyro slowly opened his eyes, the haze of sleep leaving him, as he felt something kiss him on the lips. The purple dragon jerked backwards as Cynder's face filled his vision, their kiss coming to a halt as Spyro stared at the dragoness with wide eyes.

"Good morning Spyro," Cynder giggled softly. Spyro blinked, both from grogginess and confusion, before replying.

"'Morning," he slurred. Cynder laid down next to him, giggling at how Spyro hadn't noticed what she had done to him. "What are you so happy about?" he asked.

Shifting his legs a little bit, Spyro felt something warm and wet between his thighs. He looked down, and saw a sight he never thought he would see: Cynder's paw on his penis, a large pool of semen on the bed between them, and the black dragoness' bare slit pressed up against his thigh.

The purple dragons eyes opened wide in shock, and looked up at Cynder. She had a grin on her face, one that showed she had no regrets of what she did.

"I hope you had a good rest," she said, watching as his face turned a dark shade of red, even through his scales.

"Did you do this?" Spyro asked, smirking. The surprise of what she had done with him wore off, replaced with excitement that she gave him a handjob. If she was willing to do that this early in their relationship, then what would it be like later down the road?

"Yep. I thought it would help wake you up," Cynder explained, nuzzling her lover's neck.

"What possessed you to do that?" Spyro asked playfully.

"I don't know. I just thought it would be fun," Cynder replied, and kissed him again on the lips. Now awake, Spyro could taste his own seed in Cynder's mouth, and he gagged slightly, not finding the taste particularly pleasing.

They broke their kiss several seconds later, and turned to regard the mess they made of the bed.

"We should clean this up before some unfortunate avian finds it," Spyro said. Cynder nodded, and the two rose off the bed.

They walked to the bathroom and rinsed off their bodies in the shower, soaping each other down and getting rid of all bodily fluids that had accumulated on their scales. They hopped out a couple minutes later, and set to cleaning the bed.

It didn't take long for the two to pull the sheets off the bed, ball them up, and throw them into a bin in the far corner of the room. Spyro felt bad for the avian tasked with cleaning up the guest room. They were in for a large surprise the moment they picked up the sheets.

The two dragons found new sheets and made the bed with them before laying back down on it. They decided to lay there for a few minutes to get themselves ready for the day ahead.

"What time is it?" Spyro asked, suddenly curious. Cynder nodded her head in the direction of the window, and Spyro looked over to it. The sun was still rising over the forest, and the sky was a beautiful blue color. Several avians were flying around off in the distance, likely out hunting or patrolling the area.

"Looks like we slept for a while," said Spyro. Cynder nodded, the purple dragon still gazing out the window. He inhaled deeply, taking in the smells of the forest and noticing a faint smell of meat on the wind.

"Wonder if breakfast is ready," he quietly mused. He walked away from the window and flopped back down onto the cushiony bed, snuggling back up against the pillows. Cynder giggled at the scene.

"They're probably been waiting for us," Cynder replied, speaking of the avians.

The black dragoness picked herself up off the bed and walked over to the bathroom, her tail swaying behind her. Spyro rolled over as the door closed and locked, and he could hear her using the toilet located inside the bathroom.

She stepped out a moment later, and the light from the window immediately caught her figure. Though she was still dirty from all the flying and walking of the past couple days, Spyro thought that the black dragoness was the most beautiful creature he had laid eyes on.

The ivory horns that adorned Cynder's head reflected the sunlight streaming in from the window. Her wings were folded against her back, and the light showcased her luscious curves and rounded figure.

She yawned and stretched in the space between the bathroom and bed, not realizing that Spyro was staring at her. She raised her arms high before bending over and touching her toes, while at the same time splaying her wings out as far as they could go.

Spyro blushed underneath his scales as he saw how she presented herself, her eyes closed the whole time. Finally she opened them and instantly made eye contact with the purple male. She blushed furiously, a hint of red seeping in between her dark scales, and quickly stopped her morning stretch, unsure of how much Spyro had seen.

Spyro smirked as Cynder padded over to the bed and sat down, who didn't face the purple drake. Spyro chuckled. "Feeling better?" he asked smugly. Cynder playfully whacked him across the back of his head, careful not to hit his fins. The two teenage dragons both laughed.

Even though both of them had experienced things far beyond what any other dragon their age could imagine, and were wise beyond their years, they were still teenagers at heart.

Spyro stood up and stretched, hearing several vertebrae pop and feeling the pressure there be released. He let out a large yawn before walking over to a chair in the corner of the room. Their robes were placed on the chair.

He picked them up and returned to the bed, handing Cynder her robe. She gave a quiet "thanks", but didn't put on the grey garment. She seemed like was deep in thought, unsettling Spyro. Mere seconds ago Cynder was happy and playful, but now she seemed distant and slightly depressed.

"What's wrong?" he questioned. The black dragoness was silent. Spyro grew worried. Was she nervous about Warfang and going back? Or was it something else that was going on in her head?

"So, about returning to Warfang…" Cynder started before trailing off, her voice low and . Spyro looked at her, his left eyeridge raised slightly in confusion, before he remembered the talk they had had the night before. Had Cynder made up her mind on the topic?

The ebony dragoness fidgeted with her hands as she opened and closed her mouth a couple times, trying to figure the best thing to tell the purple dragon.

"...I think we should head back," she said. Spyro sat down next to her on the bed and calmly placed his hand on her leg, while inside he was elated that she decided to return to the dragon city. He gently rubbed it back and forth, comforting Cynder as she sighed. "I thought about what you said, and I think it would be better for us to return to the city than just, you know, abandon it."

Spyro didn't reply, and just sat there as Cynder continued. His hand moved from her leg to the space between her wings and gently rubbed the scales there. She shivered at the touch and relaxed, his presence soothing her greatly.

"It's okay to have those thoughts Cynder," said Spyro. Cynder turned and looked into his eyes, seeing her reflection in his purple orbs. "Just don't let them take a hold of you. You'll begin to doubt yourself, and you'll find that life just gets harder."

Cynder smiled at his words. Spyro was a very wise and intelligent dragon, especially at such a young age. He picked up a lot from the Elders around the world, both in elements and in wisdom. It was at times like this when that wisdom shone through, revealing that there was more to him than being playful and happy.

That didn't mean the things he said weren't corny. She would sometimes laugh inside whenever she heard the Elders or Guardians say things like that, as it just sounded so cheesy.

Cynder gave Spyro a hug and quick kiss on the lips, her way of saying "thank you." "You know how sappy you sound when you say that?" she asked him, giggling slightly at the face he gave her.

Spyro felt better now that Cynder went back to her old self, and the two quickly donned their robes. They refolded the sheets on the bed and cleaned themselves up before stepping out of the house and onto the platform surrounding it.

The sun shone brightly overhead, casting golden rays of light through gaps in the canopy. Birds flew overhead in the blue sky, and white clouds wistfully floated across the blue landscape. The fresh smell of grass, Marwood, and pine filled the dragon's nostrils as they breathed in deeply.

The sounds of animals and avians going about their business filled the air, cries and chirps and warbles coming from all directions.

A chilly wind blew through the trees, rustling the leaves The wind served to help wake them up further, biting against the dragons' exposed scales. They shivered as their bodies heated up slightly to compensate for the sudden chill.

Spyro and Cynder walked around the side of the tree to the bridge and saw a wonderful sight: the village was bustling with activity. Avians of all sizes and types were flying amongst the trees and houses while many walked along the rope bridges that connected them.

A patrol consisting of mainly falcons zipped by in front of them, off to another area of the forest to watch. Gryphon, owl, and songbird children were playing on the platform of a very large tree, their parents talking off to the side. Up above the dragons was a class of teenage avians testing out their flying skills, going from tree to tree while dodging obstacles and hitting targets.

Far below them was another class, this one mainly consisting of older avians of both genders. They were learning how to fight against the myriad of enemies that made up the dark armies of Malefor, and were hacking away against wooden dummies with swords and bladed staffs.

An unusual commotion caught the eye of the two dragons. Several platforms down and in front of them was an unusual sight: avians practicing magic. They were practicing different forms of magic as well; shooting fireballs at targets, raising objects with their hands, and conjuring items out of thin air.

There was a great difference between Magic and Elemental Manipulation. Magic used runes, words, and mana to generate and maintain spells that could be held for short or long periods of time. Elemental manipulation, however, used the energy of one's body and their spiritual connection with Aslore to manipulate the environment and use the elements of the world. It was harder to use and didn't have as large a variety of uses as magic, but some felt it was better than magic in many ways.

Because dragons had great stamina and the greatest spiritual connection to Aslore compared to any other species, even Elves, they were able to use a combination of both elemental manipulation and magic.

But now what was becoming more common was the fusing of both magic and elemental manipulation with modern technology. Inventors and builders were discovering the hidden connections, and were creating ingenious objects and items making life so much easier.

Both dragons were in awe of the scene, as they had never seen magic like this before. When they encountered magic users while on their missions they only saw offensive and defensive spells and powers being used, and none of the more unique abilities that these users had.

They watched as trainees practiced several different spells in their designated areas. Many were learning how to draw runes that could store spells or mana, while others were being taught defensive spells that could be used in case Orkirm was attacked.

As the two dragons watched the villagers train, Spyro's stomach decided to make itself known by rumbling loudly. The two jumped slightly at the noise, so engrossed in watching the avians practice magic. Deciding that it was time they got breakfast, both dragons turned and walked to the edge of the platform. They flapped their wings several times experimentally, and found that their wing muscles were still sore.

Fortunately they could deal with it, and lifted off the ground before heading in the direction of the dining hall. They flew through the crisp morning air as avians went from tree to tree around them, many making way for the two dragons when they recognized them. Several would greet them before flying off while others would try and get their attention, only to be ignored by the two dragons.

He tuned out the ongoing conversations between avians as he searched around for any landmark in the village. He couldn't recognize anything, finding that the houses and trees seemed to blend together.

"Hey, Spyro?"

Spyro looked over his shoulder to see Cynder behind him, a look of confusion present on her face. She was staring at him, and every couple seconds she would take a quick glance at the trees around them.

"What?" he asked.

"You don't have any idea of where the dining room is, do you?" Cynder mockingly questioned. Spyro shamefully nodded, unable to come up with a good excuse. The black dragoness sighed. Dawn had walked them from the hall to the guest room, but they had been too tired and too stuffed to remember the route.

"Let's just ask for directions," she suggested.

Spyro nodded, wondering why he hadn't come up with that idea himself. Finding himself at a junction between trees, Spyro stopped and hovered in the air, Cynder quickly following suit. Several avians swerved out of the way, too short on time to stay and talk with the two saviors.

'_Now I just need to find someone to ask,'_ Spyro thought, not caring about the fact that he was stopped right over a busy section of the forest. He didn't want to ask an avian currently in flight, believing that it could likely cause them to crash.

Spyro looked around at the platforms for a guide before his eyes settled on a brown gryphoness that just walked out of a hut. She was walking at a leisurely pace along the platform, a large bag strapped to her back. Spyro figure she would be good to talk to.

"Spyro! Cynder!" came a sudden call from the right of the pair. The two dragons whipped their heads around to view the source of the voice: a large golden eagle that was quickly approaching them.

Markavir smiled as he made his way towards the two dragons, thankful that he wouldn't have to fly all the way to the guest house to get the two. Matton had sent him to try and wake up the two dragons again, but he hadn't been looking forward to the long flight across the forest.

He kept his staff strapped to his back as he flew, avians parting the way in front of him as they recognized the head of the Orkirm Guard. He waved to Spyro and Cynder, and the pair quickly flew in his direction.

Both dragons smiled at the eagle as they made their way over to him, happy to see a familiar face amongst the sea of avians. They remembered him from the night before, having found the two of them in the woods and bringing them to Orkirm.

He beckoned the two over to the platform below them, and all three landed on the wood. Thanks to the sunlight the dragons got a better glimpse of the armor that Markavir wore. They were quite impressed with his attire, liking the way it reflected in the light. It was well-built and strong, and perfectly suited the fighting styles of avians.

"Just in time! I was on my way to the guest house and attempt to wake you two up again!" greeted Markavir, stepping in front of the two dragons and bowing slightly.

"Already tried?" Cynder asked curiously, a hint of mirth in her tone.

"Yeah, I guess dragons can be really heavy sleepers," chuckled the eagle, gently rubbing the back of his feathered head as Spyro and Cynder chuckled as well. Several passerby slowed down or stopped to catch a glimpse at the two dragons, but a quick shuffling of his body and Markavir warded off the start of a crowd.

The eagle's expression soon turned serious as he gazed at the two dragons. "Matton wants to speak with you two about your journey back to Warfang. He wants both of you to meet him in the dining hall."

Both dragons nodded. Spyro let out a soft chuckle as he thought about the turn of events, causing Markavir to regard him with a confused look. The eagles eyes narrowed, and Cynder covered her mouth with her paw, covering her giggle.

"What?" asked Markavir.

"Funny enough, we've been looking for the dining hall. We couldn't remember where it was located in the village," stated Spyro, somehow finding the situation funny. Markavir rolled his eyes, unable to understand the antics of Artisan dragons.

"Follow me. I'll lead you there," said Markavir as he took off from the platform. Spyro and Cynder quickly got over the humor and followed the golden eagle, flapping their wings and rising into the air.

When they were high enough Markavir turned around and started flying away from the two dragons. Following him, they rounded a corner and remained on a straight path for several minutes as they quickly flew past trees and huts.

The sweet scent of marwood and dew filler their nostrils; both of the dragons inhaled deeply to get more of the smell. Looking around they saw the patchwork of greens and browns that made up the forest, with splotches of other colors from the avians dotting the scene. The beauty of the forest was all around them.

Even spiritually the forest seemed to go on for miles, connecting everything around and within it. Everything had a purpose; every flower, tree, animal, and insect, all of it created a web of life that energy flowed through.

Opening their senses that connected them to the spiritual realm, Spyro and Cynder were overwhelmed by the sheer spiritual connections between the forest and its inhabitants. They quickly closed their connections before their bodies would start to shut down, unable to handle the energy flow.

Spyro and Cynder learned the Spirit Sense from Ignitus and Malefor respectively and for different uses. Ignitus taught Spyro how to use the Spirit Sense to find the connections between energy and spirits in the world, whereas Malefor taught Cynder to use the Spirit Sense to locate life forms and either kill them or interrogate them.

"This place-It's beautiful!" Cynder grinned, looking at Spyro with wide, happy eyes. Spyro smiled back, happy to Cynder so excited about the world around her, a far cry from her days as the Terror of the Skies when she wanted to see everything burned.

The gentle caress of the breeze felt nice on their scales, dirty as they were. The bath they had had three days ago had been undone thanks to the events back in the underground temple.

The journey to the dining hall was pretty much silent between the trio, all three of them lost in their thoughts. Spyro and Cynder were on autopilot, their bodies tracking Markavir and copying his movements as they were all lost in their thoughts.

Spyro and Cynder were thinking about their friends and family while Markavir wondered about how the death of Malefor would affect the world. Sure, the planet would be able to regain much of the energy it had lost, and the dragons that had gone into hiding would certainly return en masse.

He was curious as to what the political ramifications of the Dark Master's death would be like. He had learned about the empires that existed before and during the time of Malefor (before he went crazy and sought world domination), and knew that there were plenty of feuds and skirmishes already going on between the different kingdoms.

Would those feuds continue as the various species and kingdoms rebuilt themselves? Markavir could only hope that Spyro and Cynder would prevent that from happening, and work to unite the world and its inhabitants.

Markavir brushed those thoughts from his head as he noticed that they were getting close to the dining hall. The temperature had risen slightly, a sign that they were next to the forge tree. Beyond that tree and to the right of it lay the dining hall.

The large eagle halted and flapped his wings down, hovering in the air as he waited for Spyro and Cynder to catch up to him. Markavir called out to the duo, snapping them out of their thoughts as they neared him.

"The dining hall's this way!" he yelled. He took off, the two dragons right behind him, and flew around the side of the forge tree. Up ahead was the dining hall, situated on one of the largest trees in the forest.

Now that the sun was out Spyro and Cynder were able to get a better look at the building, and were able to realize just how large it was. The tree the dining hall was placed on was at least 50 feet around and seemed to stretch up to the point it touched the sky, while the dining hall was likely a couple hundred feet in diameter.

Dozens of avians flew around the large building, while many more walked along the platforms surrounding it. This was where the main hub of activity took place in Orkirm, with the marketplace, taverns, inns, and other public buildings located here.

Spyro and Cynder likened the scene to one back at Warfang, before the attempted invasions of the city became more and more frequent. They wanted to stop and take in the scene, but Markavir called them again, pointing to the dining hall. They followed him, knowing it was more important for them to meet with Matton.

They all landed on the platform, wings folding against their backs as they touched down. Citizens stopped walking when they saw the three figures, catching a glimpse of the head of the Orkirm Guards with the famous purple drake and black dragoness.

Ignoring the stares and gasps from onlookers, the three walked into the dining hall, a line of guards quickly forming in front of the entrances so that no one could go in. Some citizens protested, while many others simply left, knowing they might be able to catch a glimpse later.

Inside the dining hall, Spyro and Cynder spotted Matton near one of the fireplaces, two plates of food sitting on either side of the table. The large eagle was going over several documents, with a jar of wax, a couple stamps, and a feather pen right next to him.

Hearing the door open, the chief of Orkirm looked up and noticed the two dragons and the captain making their way over to him. He smiled and stood up, stretching out his large, black and grey feathered wings. Spyro and Cynder hadn't realized it before, but his wings were _gigantic_ compared to other avians, easily stretching across two rows of tables, even larger than some species of dragon.

The smell of food made the dragons stomachs' rumble as they walked between the empty chairs and tables. As they made their ways to the table they looked around and noticed that the entire dining hall was empty, including the kitchen.

"Where are the chefs?" Spyro wondered aloud.

"They leave after everyone is done with breakfast and take a several hour break before returning back for dinner," replied Markavir. Spyro nodded. It was a good idea, as working in the kitchen for several hours a day could be really stressful.

"Good morning Cynder, Spyro," Matton greeted the two dragons. They nodded at him, and sat down at the table. Markavir saluted his chief, who gave a curt nod. The golden eagle sat down, resting his staff against the side of the table.

"We were wondering when you two would get up," Matton said as he sat down, and pushed the plates of food in front of both dragons. "You missed breakfast, but I made sure the kitchen saved you guys a meal."

The two reptiles grinned happily and quickly dug into their meal. It was composed of fresh venison, fish, carrots, and some sliced apples, a well-balanced meal for two teenage dragons.

"When you're done we can go over some final details of your journey back to Warfang," Matton shuffled the papers and scrolls, finding a few important ones and presenting them to Markavir. The captain looked them over and discussed them with Matton, leaving the two dragons to their meal.

10 minutes later the dragons finished their food, pushing the plates towards the center of the table. The meal was very good, and both stuffed dragons sat there, patiently waiting for Matton to finish his conversation with Markavir.

They didn't have to wait long. Thirty seconds later the avians finished their conversation, Markavir nodding at something Matton said before standing up, saluting, and walking off, taking his staff with him.

Matton turned to the two dragons, a look of content on his face.

"What are you so happy about?" Cynder asked him.

"Markavir has agreed to travel with you two to Warfang," said Matton, shuffling the papers and scrolls scattered on the table into separate stacks. "He'll be providing you with protection on your trip, and will act as the representative of Orkirm when you reach the dragon city."

Spyro nodded. It was a smart move on Mattons part; it would make Orkirm look good in the eyes of the leaders of Warfang for providing the two dragons with protection and having a representative there.

"Why Markavir? Isn't he the head of the guard?" asked Cynder. Matton's smile slightly fell.

"He is, but he is the most diplomatic of the guards and has the best training. And from what I've seen so far, you two get along with him pretty well," Matton said, leaning back in his chair. He folded his arms across his chest.

"Markavir's a nice guy, so it's not that hard to get along with him. It helps that he knows his stuff," complimented Spyro. In the little time he had gotten to know Markavir he found the bird caring and intelligent. Cynder nodded in agreement.

Matton smiled at the compliment for the captain.

"Thanks. He'll happy to know that you two like him so much," thanked Matton. "And don't worry about the situation with the guards. We have others who can take his place until he returns. With the Dark Army almost entirely destroyed I don't think we will have to be worried about attacks any time soon."

Spyro and Cynder nodded. The purple dragon leaned back in his chair as two waiters came by and cleaned off the dragons plates.

"What time will we be leaving?" Spyro asked as a waiter picked up his empty glass of water. Matton hummed, thinking.

"It's about a ten hour flight to Warfang, so I recommend leaving in about an hour. Several workers are currently packing some supplies into travel bags for your flight, with stuff like food and water," replied the chief.

The two teenagers smiled at that, incredibly thankful that complete strangers were doing this for them.

"Thank you so much for your hospitality Matton. Without your village we probably would have starved and frozen last night," said Spyro. Matton grinned; he was honored to have the two saviors of the realm taking residence in his village.

"It's been an honor having you two here. Your presence has made our village feel more at peace since the war ended," remarked Matton. "And with the Dark Army gone, I don't think our little village is going to have too many problems in the future-"

There was a loud _BANG_ as the doors of the dining hall were slammed open, causing the three to jump out of their seats. They looked over at the the entrance to see an armored peregrine falcon standing there, glancing around the room before her eyes settled on Matton.

She dashed over to the table, visibly panting as she knocked chairs and tables out of her way. Her staff was strapped across the back of her silver and blue armor, which reflected the light from the fireplace. On her left shoulder was the mark of a corporal.

The falcon quickly snapped a salute at the chief as soon as she was close enough.

"Sir! We've got raiders!" she rapidly said. Mattons eyes briefly widened before narrowing. Spyro and Cynder glanced at each other. Raiders? Why would there be raiders?

"Where?" asked Matton.

"Food storage, same as always. We've got them surrounded, but they've brought a dragon we've never seen before," replied the chief. Matton nodded, scratching his beak as he thought of how to handle the problem.

"Head to the barracks and have another squad go to the scene. Tell them that I'll be there in a few minutes. After that divert two patrols to the area nearby: one in the sky and one on the ground. Check for any other raiders that might be in the area and drive them off without killing them," ordered Matton. His voice was stern and commanding, one that clearly made him sound in charge.

"Sir!" the peregrine falcon snapped another salute before running back out the door and taking off into the sky. There was silence for several seconds as Spyro and Cynder sat at the table, stunned at what just happened.

"What's going on?" Spyro asked.

"Dragons from the nearby village of Caelkirk have been attacking us and raiding our food storages for months now. We've able to drive them off, but not before they take almost a third of our supplies," Markavir said, rubbing the his forehead with a weathered paw.

"Have you tried negotiating with them?" Cynder asked, leaning slightly forward in her seat. Matton sadly shook his head.

"We've tried reasoning with them, but they just attack our envoys on sight," Matton sighed, pushing the papers and scrolls to the side before standing up and staring at the two dragons.

"You know, we could help you deal with them," said Spyro, and Matton almost whacked himself in the head. Of course! Spyro and Cynder were looked up to all around the world, especially by other dragons. If he brought them with him to the scene, they might be able to solve this problem once and for all.

"You would do this for us? For my village?" Matton asked. Both dragons smiled and nodded, happy to help the village that aided them. Equally exciting was the fact that there was another village with dragons out there who survived the war.

"It's the least we can do to pay you back for helping us," said Cynder, her wings twitching at the thought of other dragons being out there. If she and Spyro helped Orkirm with the raider problem then they could have a strong ally on their side.

Matton grinned and nodded. The two dragons stood up, and the three of them headed to the exit. As they left the building they found the line of guards was gone, but to the right stood a group of four soldiers. They saluted upon seeing the chief, who nodded in their direction.

"Status report!" barked Matton, and the avians relaxed. The leader of the group, a red-tailed hawk clad in silver and green armor, stepped forward.

"Sir! We've cordoned off the area and mostly cleared it of civilians. We counted eight dragons in this raid, and two have been detained. There are five dragons still inside the storage building, and we've got them surrounded," said the hawk. Matton, pleased with the situation.

The hawk continued. "Unfortunately, we haven't been able to catch the last dragon, Sir," he shifted nervously.

Mattons eyes narrowed. "And why haven't you been able to catch it?" he questioned. The hawk kept a straight face, knowing that failure was not something he wanted to report.

"It's just too fast. One second it's there, the next it's gone. All we see is a black and red blur. I've never seen anything like it Sir," he replied. Matton frowned while Spyro and Cynder glanced at each other. A black and red dragon? What species was it? And why hadn't it been captured by Malefor, who sought out every last black dragon on Aslore?

"Do you know where it is?" asked Matton, this time getting a response from the female kite to the hawks left.

"Sir! We last saw it circling around the food storage, possibly trying to find a way in. Captain Yaralla is supposedly attempting to trap in the storage with the rest of its friends," she said.

Matton nodded, his mind racing as he came up with a plan. A thought struck him: if he could get Spyro and Cynder inside the food storage with the other dragons, they might be able to convince the raiders to stop.

He turned to the young pair.

"Can you two still use your powers?" he asked, and both dragons shook their heads. Matton cursed under his breath; if Spyro and Cynder couldn't use their powers, it was possible they might get seriously injured if the raiders decided to attack.

And if any avian set foot inside the food storage it was likely the dragons would respond with violence. Matton sighed internally, placing his faith in the two dragons.

"It'll be up to you you two to get those dragons to stop the raid. We can provide support if they attack, but other than that you're on your own," Matton turned to the young dragons.

"Don't worry, we've been in situations like this before. We'll handle those dragons," affirmed Cynder, Spyro nodding in agreement. Diplomacy was a skill they picked up on their travels, having to talk with species ranging from the high-and-mighty gryphons to the shy and meek moles.

Matton turned back to the squad.

"These two," he pointed at the two dragons next to him, "are here to help us with this raid. Treat them with the same respect you treat me, and defend them with your lives," commanded Matton.

"Yes sir!" acknowledged the soldiers. The group unfurled their wings and jumped off the platform, quickly taking to the sky.

They would stop the raiders, one way or another.

* * *

The squad of avians led Matton, Cynder, and Spyro through the forest to the outskirts of the village. Dozens of avians were fleeing from the area, and the group initially had to dodge and dive oncoming avians before the soldiers cleared a path.

"RAID! THE DRAGONS ARE RAIDING OUR FOOD AGAIN!" shouted a crow as he flew from the scene. Spyro rolled his eyes; likely everyone in Orkirm already knew that by now.

The group rounded a set of trees and headed right, towards the distant sound of shouting and metal clashing against metal. The group was confused by this; the raiders were supposed to have been trapped in the storage room, surrounded by armed guards. How had they gotten out?

"You said the raiders were cornered in the storage room!" Matton yelled to the lead hawk.

"They were when I was there sir! That other dragon must've freed them!" replied the hawk. Matton grumbled, but kept his mouth shut and simply flapped harder. Like the others he didn't want them to escape, as it meant they would likely have to wait until the dragons attacked again before they could negotiate.

The rest of the flight was silent but for the sounds of fighting in the distance. The noises grew louder as they neared, until the group could make out the different squawks and roars of avians and dragons.

The storage building came into sight as they rounded another Marwood tree. Unlike many of the other buildings in Orkirm, the storage building was built on top of the remains of a tree rather than around it. Because of this, it was much larger than the other buildings in the village.

The group could visibly see multiple figures fighting on the platform around the tree. The building itself had multiple holes in it, and the doors looked like they had been torn off by something.

The scent of metal and food was present in the air, but thankfully they couldn't smell any blood. No one had been hurt, and the group could only pray that it would stay that way.

Spyro and Cynder focused on the larger, more colorful figures on the platform. They easily identified them as dragons, and if their smells were anything to go by they were all quite young. They could also smell trace hints of rock, smoke, and fire from the dragons' scents, helping them identify the elements of the raiders.

So far they could smell seven different dragons: six artisans and a peace keeper. Three of the artisans and the peacekeeper were fire dragons, with another two being earth dragons. The last was surprisingly a wind dragon, whose species had supposedly gone extinct. Three of the dragons were female, while the rest were male.

Unfortunately, the black and purple dragons couldn't seem to smell the eighth dragon that was in the area. It was likely that it had masked its scent well before the raid, as Spyro and Cynder's well-tuned noses couldn't find anything.

Matton turned to Spyro and Cynder and pointed at the ongoing fight, silently telling them to deal with the dragons while he dealt with his avians. The two dragons nodded and sped off to the platform, intent on stopping the fight.

"Signal me when you've convinced the raiders to stop fighting. I'll come down and

Out of the corner of his eye Matton noticed several more squads of avians appear from the trees. They noticed him and flew over, their staffs out and ready. With reinforcements, Matton could give Spyro and Cynder the time they needed to stop the raiders.

"Alright, create a perimeter around the tree! Make sure none of the raiders escape, but don't use lethal force on them!" commanded Matton. A chorus of yes sirs rang out, and the dozens of avians soon began forming a staggered line around the storage building.

Spyro and Cynder flew side-by-side towards the edge of the platform, keeping an eye on the dragons, noting their weapons, armor, clothing, and methods of fighting. It would help them better understand who and what they were up against.

The raiders wore brown and black leather armor with metal plating covering their vital areas, and large packs strapped to their backs. Sword scabbards hung by their waists, along with a pouch that looked like it held red and green gems. Black masks and cloth covered their faces, making it harder to identify them.

Most of their bodies, including horns and fins, were hidden underneath their helmets and cloth. Their tails and wings, however, poked out through holes cut into their armor.

The peacekeeper was the easiest to identify, being the shortest of the seven dragons. He and the three fire artisans had a mix of black, orange, and red scales on their tails, and their wings

The raiders were keeping the avians at bay with a mix of elements and magical weapons, while the avians fought back with enchanted swords and armor.

The two dragons prayed that wouldn't get caught in the fighting. Neither of them had their abilities back, and much of their training revolved around using the elements. To make matters worse, they were still tired from all the events the last couple of days. If fighting erupted between the two parties, it was not likely Spyro and Cynder would last very long against the other dragons.

Spyro and Cynder landed next to the avians and confronted the raiders. The dragons closed ranks around the stolen food.

The raiders pointed their weapons at Spyro and Cynder as the pair slowly walked forward, trying to appear as nonthreatening as possible. They hoped that the raiders would recognize who they were.

"I'm Spyro, and that's Cynder. We're not here to fight you. Let's just talk this out," reasoned Spyro. Though he didn't like having to do it, sometimes it was necessary to play the 'purple dragon' card.

The raiders didn't lower their weapons, and he could see their eyes narrowing through their eye slits. Either they were skeptical of who they were, which Spyro found unlikely, or they didn't trust them at all.

"Who?" the short peacekeeper gruffly asked, obviously trying to mask his voice. Spyro and Cynder's eyes widened, gobsmacked at the small dragons words. Looking at the other dragons revealed similar thoughts; that the purple and black dragons in front of them were either mad or incredibly egotistic.

"Wh-What? How do you not know us?" questioned Cynder. Even if they didn't know who Spyro was surely they knew who she was! Cynder, the former Terror of the Skies?

"Should I? What I know now is that you two dragons look like you need to be taught a lesson on how to not such egotistic bitches," the peacekeeper replied. Cynder sighed internally; the peacekeeper was acting just like any of its kind: short-tempered, rude, and holding little respect for others.

Matton stood back from the conversation, watching it from afar. He didn't want to get involved just yet, for it could anger the raiders. It would be much better for Spyro and Cynder to calm down the other dragons first, and then make his appearance.

"You've got to be kidding me," said Spyro, letting the insult slide, "Have you guys been living under a rock or something? Cynder and I restored the planet when it was falling apart! The war's over! You don't need to keep raiding the village!"

"Bullshit," the peacekeeper spat, "You're lying! No one but Malefor is that powerful!"

"Listen, just go back to your village and tell your Elders to talk with the avians here. I'm sure they'll be willing to trade with you if you just asked nicely," Cynder reasoned, trying to appeal to the raiders.

There was no reply from the raiders, nor any action taken against the dragons or avians. Instead, the dragons raiders slowly backed up closer to the food crate, their tails lashing from side-to-side as their wings twitched slightly.

It was the sign of a dragon getting angry and about to attack. Spyro and Cynder knew that if they didn't pacify the raiders now they wouldn't be able to at all at fighting would erupt again.

Seeing the subtle sign of aggression, the avians took a step forward, their staves held in a defensive grip. The squad that escorted the two dragons here scooted closer to Spyro and Cynder, making sure that if any fighting started they would be somewhat safe.

Spyro and Cynder shuffled away from the escort and stepped closer to the raiders, still trying to reason with them.

"Look, can you just stop raiding these people? The war's over now! You can come with us to Warfang, the Dragon City! They've got supplies there, for you and your village!" Spyro attempted to reason.

His plea fell on deaf ears as the earth artisan next to the peacekeeper spoke up. "Why should we? For all we know, you intend to lead us away from this place and kill us!"

"Why would we do that? Dragons are already rare enough as it is, we don't need to add another seven to the death toll!" shouted Spyro, doing his best to stay calm. Dealing with these stubborn dragons was hard and infuriating.

"I've had enough of this. Get out of our way or we'll take this food and-and we'll ki-kill you!" threatened the peacekeeper, channeling his energy to create a fireball in his hand.

Several of the other dragons followed suit, creating fireballs or hardened rocks in their free hands.

It didn't seem that they were likely to use their powers, however. Thanks to the stuttering of the dragon, it was obvious that he and his group had never killed another sentient being before.

Still, Spyro and Cynder narrowed their eyes further, unamused at the raiders' course of action. If they posed any threat at all, then they would have to be dealt with in a manner that removed the threat.

"No, we're not moving. Not until you talk to the leader of Orkirm and tell him exactly why you're raiding this peaceful village!"

"I won't! I'm not telling you why we raid them, why we started raiding them, or why we will continue to raid them! NOW GET THE FUCK OUT OF THE WAY!"

The tension rose to a boiling point, with neither side willing to back down. Spyro and Cynder didn't know what to do: their attempts at diplomacy had failed, and the raiders were likely about to attack the avians and take off with their food.

Out of the corner of their eyes Spyro and Cynder noticed a black blur darting through the trees, dodging avian patrols and circling around the area. The two dragons were instantly reminded of the warning the peregrine falcon gave earlier: that there was a previously black dragon aligned with the raiders in the forest.

Whatever kind of dragon it was, it was fast. _Really_ fast.

Right as the avians and raiders were about to attack each other, the foreign dragon burst from the trees, breaking through the perimeter of birds surrounding the food storage. The avians let out indignant squawks, and Matton signalled a squad to chase after the dragon.

But the dragon was just too fast. Try as they might, the avians just simply couldn't keep up with it. It sped across the wide gap in the trees, flying right towards the storage building. The avians trailing it were anxious that the dragon would start killing their brethren one-by-one, but that didn't turn out to be the case.

"Stop! Don't kill them!" the dragon called out to the avians standing on the platform, its low pitched voice indicating it was male.

Avian and raider heads turned to the dragon, obviously curious at the voice. The raiders relaxed upon seeing their friend, while the avians tensed at the new arrival.

_That's odd,_ thought Cynder,and glanced over at Spyro. His brow was narrowed, probably thinking the same thing she was. _I recognize that voice! But who-_

She got her answer as the dragon landed on the platform in between the avians and the raiders. It stretched both its arms in front of the two parties, blocking them from moving against each other. Though the raiders were surrounded on all sides, neither the avians nor the dragons made a move against each other.

"Stop the fighting!" it cried, its acid green eyes and black, slitted pupils burrowing into the avians around it.

Spyro and Cynder's eyes bulged as they realized just what that mysterious dragon was.

He was covered head to toe in scales darker than those of Cynder, causing the dragon to easily stick out on the platform. His wings were incredibly large, easily possessing a greater wing to body ratio than that of the average dragon. Six ear flaps ran along the sides of his broad head, and several fins ran down his forehead.

At the base of his thick tail were a set of maneuvering fins, common on many speed-based dragons. They allowed for far tighter turns than other winged creatures, and helped a dragon maintain their incredibly high speeds. At the tip of his tail were two fins instead of a tailblade, which acted like the rudders of a boat to help it steer.

Put all these characteristics together, and it was easy to identify what race the dragon belonged to.

He was a Night Fury: an incredibly rare type of dragon renowned for their extreme speed, maneuverability, and incredible strength. They could easily reach speeds greater than 350 miles an hour, faster than a peregrine falcon in a dive or a wind dragon using an air vortex.

Unlike other dragons, who used the voice, elements, or magic, Night Furies were only able to use their inborn abilities. They relied on their lethal plasma blasts, echolocation, high intelligence, and raw speed to fight back against any enemy in the sky. They could easily outmatch any other dragon type when it came to flying, even wind dragons who could use the air currents to gain a significant boost to their speed.

Unfortunately, Malefor had nearly hunted them to extinction when they rejected his offer to work for him. Thanks to their speed and stealthiness, Night Furies made fantastic couriers, able to do long distance flights with little exhaustion. They were quite strong when compared to other dragons, even for being one of the smaller types of the species.

This one was no different: Thick muscles hid underneath his tough black hide, vicious looking claws, and a hefty, meaty tail. He was sturdily built, with a lean body that reflected a majestic grace. He could likely rip through many of the armored avians before him if he chose to.

The avians pointed their staves at the newcomer, but the Night Fury stood his ground. The raiders behind him attempted to move forward and attack the avians, but the Night Fury turned and glared at them to stop.

Glancing at the pitch black dragon, both Spyro and Cynder found that this particular Night Fury similar. He wore a brown harness over his chest, random tools and items attached to it. A red and brown colored vest covered his shoulders and the sides of the harness, wrapping around his torso and across the numerous spines running up and down his back.

A pair of black shorts were held in place by a brown belt with a gold clasp, and similarly colored straps ran around his thighs. Several pockets and small bags were secured on the straps as well. He didn't appear to be carrying any weapons on him, relaxing the two dragons.

But what Spyro immediately recognized was the Night Furies tail: he was missing his right tailfin. Instead, a red mechanical tailfin with a white dragon skull painted on it was attached to his tail as a replacement. A white symbol was painted on it: a dragon skull. He didn't know many Night Furies, especially ones that had lost a tail fin, but he certainly recognized the design style of the tailfin and the logo.

Spyro's eyes widened in shock as he figured out the identity of the Night Fury in front of him. Memories of this Night Fury and another one, female, rushed through his head as he stared at the male dragon. Memories of the two Night Furies joining Spyro and the gang to drive back a massive golem rampaging through Northern Avalar.

The purple drake turned to Cynder, who had the same look of shock on her face. She glanced at Spyro, and both dragons silently asked each other the same question running through their heads.

_Could it be? Was it really him?_

_Wasn't he supposed to be dead?_

Shock turned to confusion, as the memories of that terrible day came flooding back to the two heroes. The two Night Furies were thought to have perished when the massive, flying lava golem that the six dragons were fighting crashed into the side of Kneix Peaks, completely engulfing it flames.

Was it the same Night Fury? There was only one way to be sure.

"Toothless? Is that you?!"

* * *

**What's this? Toothless?! What are you doing here?! **

**I guess this means that I have to add another disclaimer: Toothless and the Night Fury species belongs to Dreamworks, not me, yadda yadda yadda.**

**If anyone is interested in the designs I'm using for some of the characters in this story, check my profile page.**

**I apologize if some of the characters felt a little OOC.**

**Don't forget to leave a review!**


	6. Arc 1: Chapter 5: Back to Warfang

**A/N: Alright, chapter 5**

**Music for this chapter: Dragon City (mobile game) theme and Kingdom of Bards by Adrian von Ziegler. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own TLoS and it's characters, or HTTYD. I do own the plot of this story and my own characters.**

**If anyone is interested in beta reading this story, that would be much appreciated.**

* * *

"Toothless? Is that you?!" Spyro exclaimed as he laid eyes on the Night Fury. The midnight-colored dragon whirled around. His acid-green eyes darted avian to avian, trying to find the one who said his name.

He burst into a wide smile when he saw who was talking to him. Much to the astonishment of the avians and raiders, Toothless bounded through the crowd to Spyro and Cynder and wrapped them tightly in a strong hug, all but crushing them in a vice grip.

"By the Gods, you two are alive!" Toothless happily yelled. Spyro and Cynder grunted in response, having a hard time breathing from the hug. The excited Night Fury quickly released the two, giving the two a wild grin.

The raiders were utterly surprised at how friendly one of their own was acting towards the two dragons. They had thought that he only knew one other dragon in his life. Curious, the peacekeeper took a small step forward, "you know them Toothless?"

"These two are good friends of mine. They can be trusted," responded the black dragon, turning back to his fellow raiders. The raiders were skeptical of the two dragons, but listened to Toothless nonetheless.

"Could you please lower your weapons?" the Night Fury asked his team, and looked around at the armed avians surrounding them, "all of you?" The raiders shared glances with each other, before turning to the wind dragoness facing away from Toothless. She nodded, and the raiders reluctantly lowered their weapons so they were pointed at the floor.

The avians kept their weapons pointed at the raiders, however, and were not willing to take orders from the Night Fury. They were trained to take orders from their commander or the chief of the village.

A sharp whistle pierced the air, commanding the avian troops to stand down. They complied, and lowered their weapons before standing at attention.

Matton flew down to the platform, two squads of avians following behind him. The raiders tensed as they saw the large eagle land, his silver and brown armor glinting in the sun. He loomed over them, eyeing the dragons.

Matton could easily tell if someone was a warrior or not when he looked at them. It all depended on how they carried themselves, how they talked to others, and how they reacted to different situations. Looking into the eyes of the dragons before him, he could tell that they were quite afraid of him; afraid of someone who had a reason to kill them.

He was surprised at the age of the raiders. They were young, barely even Spyro's age, and yet they had continuously taken food from a village full of trained warriors and soldiers! A part of him felt respect for the young dragons, but the rest of him was furious.

"Which of you is the leader?" he asked curtly, his anger seeping into the question. The raiders attempted to put up a tough façade, but the eagle could tell that they were afraid. He fluffed up his feathers slightly, making it look like he was growing in size in order to frighten them more.

The wind dragoness stepped forward. Most of her light blue body was hidden underneath the cloak and armor she wore. She tried to look as fearless as possible as she approached the big bird.

"I am," she said, standing right in front of the large avian. She looked up at Matton, piercing blue eyes staring into his black ones. She held still as Matton grabbed her hood and threw it back, revealing her face. She was like any other female wind dragon: light blue scales, a sharp, narrow muzzle, two long whiskers to sense air currents, blue eyes, and several feathers peeking out between her scales next to her head fins.

"What's your name?" Matton asked, narrowing his eyes. The dragoness quivered slightly.

"Vo-Vortessa," she stuttered, mentally slapping herself for sounding uncertain of her own name! It made her look weak; something that a leader shouldn't be.

"You can drop the fearless act of yous. It's not fooling anybody," said Matton, peering over at the other raiders, "except yourselves." He turned back to the wind dragoness, whose gaze was directed at the ground.

"I'm Matton, the chief of this village. And I'm not happy with your raiding," the eagle crossed his feathered arms.

The she-dragon looked up at him, revealing a set of tired and disappointed hazel eyes. The brown orbs spoke volumes more than her body language did.

Looking into the dragoness' eyes, Matton found that she was less worried about being killed or injured, and more worried about what he was about to say.

Matton wasn't going to kill them, what with there being far too few dragons left in the world, but the way the dragoness was acting piqued his curiosity.

If she knew what she was doing, and that she and her friends could be possibly executed for their actions, then why was she acting as if she was going to be chastised for her actions and not executed? The eagle had to find out.

"Why were you doing it?" Matton questioned.

"Our village has been running low on food and supplies for months now. Our Elders don't want help from the outside world, telling us that evil forces were out hunting for us," the dragoness shuffled uneasily on her feet.

It was true that the Dark Army was hunting down and killing any dragons they ran across, but what Matton found interesting was how Vortessa's Elders didn't tell her what exactly was after them.

Spyro and Cynder heard this reply as well, and suddenly understood why the Peacekeeper didn't recognize them. The Elders of Caelkirk obviously didn't want the young dragons to know about the terrible war going on, and kept facts from them so they wouldn't have to know the horrific truth.

"So, your Elders had you help by raiding other villages?" Matton asked. The dragoness bit her lip and looked away from the avian. She didn't want to tell the bird the real reason, fearing how he would react, but figured that it would turn out better in the long run if he knew.

"Well…" she started, and sighed, hoping that what she said wouldn't get her into further trouble.

"We… kinda took it upon ourselves to do the raiding," Vortessa admitted.

Matton's eyebrows shot up in surprise. These young dragons had stolen from them without any outside help? And with little training at that? The warrior in him was impressed. They must've been incredibly brave and willing to steal all that food, or else they would have failed a while ago.

His surprise was short-lived, as the leader in him quickly went back to thinking about the consequences of their actions. One village would have less food, and another would gain a bad reputation for being thieves and liars.

"While I admire your loyalty to your village, it would've been easier if you asked for some supplies instead of trying to steal them. It makes you and your village look bad, and I'm sure that your leaders would not approve of your actions."

Vortessa tensed at the words.

"Of course they wouldn't!" she snapped, her jaw tightening and pupils slitting. "Everyone in our group is abhorred and shunned by the village, and the Elders do nothing! We're the freaks and runts, the outsiders, and we just want to prove our worth! But they won't let us!"

Matton stared at her, wondering how long she had kept those feelings pent up inside.

"While it was good of you to tell us the whole story, you and your raiders are still in trouble. I won't make your sentence severe, but all of you have a bright future in helping out our village. Guards!" he yelled, and two dozen avians appeared by his side.

"Take these dragons to the brig. Leave the wind dragoness and that black dragon by Spyro and Cynder. I need to talk to them," he commanded. The guards nodded and turned to the dragon raiders, who had backed up closer to the stolen food.

The raiders stole a glance to Vortessa, silently asking if they should do as commanded. She sighed and nodded, signalling them to stand down. Reluctantly, the raiders set down their weapons and raised their hands in the air.

Two avians walked up to each dragon and grabbed their weapons before shoving them to the edge of the platform. The raiders got the idea, and took off, following the avians back into the village.

When the avians and raiders had left, Matton turned back to the wind dragoness. She was watching her dragons go, hoping they would maintain themselves in the brig until she got there.

"I couldn't help but notice your expression after I had introduced yourself," Matton said, grabbing Vortessa's attention. She looked up at the bird.

"You looked like you didn't care about being caught, or what the consequences of your actions would be," he continued. Vortessa sighed again. "You looked like you were more afraid of me yelling at you than anything else."

The platform was silent for several seconds, the only sounds coming from chirping birds and leaves rustling in the wind. Everyone on the platform patiently waited for a reply from the dragoness.

"To me, it would be more honorable to be executed than to be dressed down by a leader. I never valued the opinions of my old villages Elders, because they never respected me. I wanted someone to look up to, someone to respect," Vortessa explained after several seconds.

Matton was silent as Vortessa continued.

"And when I saw you, I could immediately tell that you were less judgemental and more thoughtful about those under you than my Elders. I tried not to look so afraid, but when I heard you speak, I instantly knew you would be less concerned about killing and focus more on who we were and why we would do this."

Her words left the avian chief thinking. She was subtly asking if he would let her work for him, as he was apparently a better leader than the Elders back in her village. That was saying something, as dragon Elders were considered to be the wisest and fairest creatures of all.

"I see," he said, breaking the silence. "I will need some time to think on this. In the meanwhile, Granur!"

A gigantic great gray owl swooped down to the platform.

"Take this dragoness here to the brig as well," he commanded, and nodded to the comparatively small dragoness. "And fetch Markavir. Tell him to bring the bags and get ready for his trip."

The great gray nodded and walked to the edge of the platform as Vortessa gave Matton a thankful look. He smiled at the young dragoness, before she took off with the owl.

Matton turned to the group of three dragons standing near the center of the platform, seeking the last raider.

"You. Night Fury," Matton caught the attention of Toothless. "I can tell that you only just joined this group. However, you were still part of this raid, so you aren't getting off scott-free. I am giving you a warning: do not, under any circumstances, attempt to steal from this village and it's people. Understood?"

Toothless gulped and nodded. He really didn't want to get on the bad side of this avian.

"Good. Markavir will be here soon, so Spyro? Cynder?" The two dragons faced Matton.

"Get ready to head back to Warfang. I was planning on spending a little more time with you two, but as you can see I have several duties to attend to. Markavir has a couple travel bags for you to carry, and will be your guide back to Warfang."

"Sergeant! Show me the damage to the storage room!" Markavir yelled, and flew over to the damaged food storage.

Toothless let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and turned to his two friends, a wide smile on his face.

"So, what have you guys been up to?"

Spyro and Cynder chuckled. Aside from Sparx, Toothless was the only dragon they knew of who could turn a tense situation into a humorous one.

"Eh, not much, aside from defeating Malefor and stopping the world from breaking apart," Spyro said nonchalantly, a wide grin on his muzzle. Toothless' smile instantly vanished as his wide jaw dropped to the floor.

"YOU DEFEATED MALEFOR?!" he yelled in shock, eyes darting between the purple and black dragons.

"Yeah. It was _not_ easy, let me tell you," Cynder answered.

"So that explains why giant chunks of Aslore kept rising out of the ground and all those weird earthquakes. You'll have to tell me all about it!"

"Some other time. It's a long story, seeing as we hopped all across the planet in our fight," replied Spyro.

"That sounds so cool!" Toothless' tail started wagging back and forth like an excited puppy.

"It sounds cool, but the entire fight was anything but cool," Cynder said to Toothless, the Night Fury's ear flaps flattening against his head as he thought about how hard the battle must've been.

"So, where have you been? We thought you were dead after that battle with the lava golem," Spyro asked the jet-black dragon. Toothless nodded as he recalled that horrible day.

"Remember how the golem smashed into the mountain side, and Starlight and I were in its path?" he asked, earning a nod from both dragons.

"Yeah?"

"Well, before we were about to crushed, Starlight found an opening in the side of the mountain. We escaped through that right as the golem smashed into the mountain, and made it out to the other side. We tried to get back to you guys, but the heat from the lava was just too much. We had to take the long way around, and by the time we got to the other side you all were gone," Toothless explained. Spyro and Cynder grew apologetic looks on their faces.

"Oh. Sorry about that. We looked all over for you two, but we were summoned back to Warfang before you and Starlight could find us," Spyro apologized, feeling terrible that he hadn't found Toothless and his girlfriend when they were so close to each other.

Toothless waved him off. "It's alright," he assured Spyro. "I would've done the same thing in your position. After we didn't find you guys, Starlight and I wandered around for several days before we stumbled upon a Caelkirk outpost. We told them we were lost, and they took us in and sheltered us. She and I have been there ever since then."

Spyro and Cynder nodded, before a look of confusion crossed Spyro's face.

"Why don't those other dragons know about us? I assumed you would've told them about us," Spyro asked the Night Fury, who only gave a sad sigh.

"Those things that Vortessa said about the leaders of Caelkirk were all true," Toothless remarked. "I tried to tell them about the wawr, but their Elders told me to stop so that I 'wouldn't encourage the younger dragons to try their luck in the outside world'. And when l told the raiders they just blew it off as nerves," Toothless said, rubbing the scales of his forehead.

"Why didn't you leave?" questioned Cynder. "You could've asked for the location of Warfang and fly to the city."

"I decided to stay and help them until the war was over. It was too risky to go back above ground, with Malefor's forces looking for dragons to kill," Toothless said, fiddling with one of the straps of his vest. "That, and Vortessa approached me several months after we arrived in Caelkirk, offering me to be a raider. I agreed, on the condition that I wouldn't be one who would be doing the actual stealing."

Spyro and Cynder nodded as Toothless adjusted the messenger bag on his hip.

"Spyro! Cynder!" someone called. The three dragons looked up and spotted Markavir flying towards them. He had several bags with him, two in his hands and one strapped to his back.

The dragons backed up, giving the avian some room as he landed on the platform. He set the two bags down and looked around, noticing the damaged storage room and a black Night Fury standing near him.

The eagle whistled at the sight. "What happened here?"

"You just missed a dragon raid. Long story short, they were captured, Matton is going to punish tem, and Spyro and I found that a friend we thought dead is actually still alive," Cynder answered, pointing to the Night Fury next to her.

"Markavir, meet Toothless. Toothless, meet Markavir," Spyro introduced. The dragon and avian shook paw and claw, respectfully nodding to each other.

Markavir smiled. "So there are some Night Furies still alive out there. I didn't think any survived Malefor's attack on their homeland."

"Actually, a lot survived. We just went into hiding, like almost every other dragon race out there," Toothless corrected. Markavir nodded, and spotted a hint of red peeking out from behind Toothless. Craning his neck, the eagle saw the red tail fin attached to the Night Fury's tail.

"What happened to your tail?" he asked. Toothless brought his tail around, showing off the two different tailfins to Markavir.

"Oh, yeah. That. Well, I didn't escape the golem fight fully unscathed," Toothless replied sheepishly, earning stares from Spyro and Cynder.

"When the golem hit the mountain, it sent a bunch of lava down the tunnel Starlight and I found. Some splashed onto my tailfin, and burned it off," he said. Spyro, Cynder, and Markavir all cringed.

"That doesn't sound pleasant," the purple dragon remarked.

"It wasn't. I couldn't fly, and I more or less fell of the mountain when I came out of the tunnel. When Starlight and I arrived in Caelkirk, I was able to design and build a new tailfin for myself." Toothless opened and closed his tailfins to show them. Looking at the base of the fins, Spyro, Cynder, and Markavir spotted an assortment of gears and magical constructions wrapped around the tail, with a blue crystal placed in the center.

"I made this myself. It's a combination of some tech and magic: the gears allow the tailfin to open and close when I flex the muscles, while the crystal and magic nodes help me feel the air currents and perform tight maneuvers."

Markavir whistled, while the two other dragons smiled. Toothless was a prodigy when it came to inventions. He was quite talented when it came to fusing magic and technology, and had previously designed several harnesses for Spyro and his friends that boosted their magic abilities.

"That's really cool! How long did it take you to make that?" Cynder asked.

"About a day or two. The hardest part was putting together the nodes and magic streams and having them work in conjunction with the gears," replied Toothless. The midnight dragon let his tail drop to the floor as he eyed the two dragons.

"So, what are you guys going to do now?"

"Cynder and I are heading back to Warfang. We've been gone for weeks, and the city needs to know we are still alive. The Guardians and our friends are probably worried sick about us," stated Spyro. "What about you? Do you have any plans?"

"Not really," Toothless rubbed the back of his neck, "I'm just… not sure what to do now. The war's over, the raiders have been captured, and I don't feel right staying in Caelkirk for much longer. I want to find a better place, especially for Starlight…" Toothless trailed off, sounding slightly depressed.

"You know, you could head back to Warfang with us. It's where all the surviving dragons will be going, and they could definitely use someone with your skills," Spyro suggested.

"Are you sure?" the midnight dragon asked, carefully eyeing Spyro and his black companion.

"Certainly," affirmed Cynder. "With all the reconstruction that's going on, the city will need some fast dragons to get messages around. Showing them some of your inventions would help as well."

Toothless crossed his arms and tapped his chin, deep in thought.

"What about Starlight?" he asked. "I don't want to leave her in Caelkirk."

"You could tell her to come to Warfang and meet you there. I'm sure she'll understand that you wanted to come with us," replied Cynder.

The Night Fury turned to Markavir.

"You wouldn't mind an addition to your trip, would you?" he asked Markavir, who smiled and shook his head.

"Okay then. I guess I'll go," agreed Toothless, earning a smile from Spyro and Cynder.

"And speaking of the trip, here's your two bags with some items," Markavir said, and handed the two bags to Spyro and Cynder. "There's some food and water in there, along with some green and red gems in case of emergencies."

Spyro and Cynder strapped the bags onto their backs, letting them rest comfortably on their shoulders. Markavir turned to Toothless.

"I apologize for not having an extra bag ready, but I was only expecting Spyro and Cynder to go along with me," said the bird.

"It's alright," Toothless responded. "I've got what I need in my bag here," he pointed to the brown bag resting against his hip. "And I'm ready to go whenever."

At that moment, Matton spotted the group and flew over to them. Markavir instantly snapped a salute at the sight of his superior.

"Sir!"

"At ease, Captain," said Matton. "I see you've brought the bags. Good." The harpy eagle turned to Spyro and Cynder. "If you two want to reach Warfang by nightfall you should leave within the next couple minutes. It's a long flight there."

The two dragons nodded. Matton grinned, and turned back to Markavir. "Make sure that these two get there in one piece, Captain. All of Warfang might go after our heads if they find out that their heroes died under our watch."

"Yes sir!" replied Markavir, giving another salute. He gestured to Spyro and Cynder, and began walking to the edge of the platform. Matton turned to walk away, but the voice of Toothless caught his attention.

"Excuse me, sir?" Toothless said timidly. Matton turned around and looked at the Night Fury, eyes narrowing at the small dragon.

"Yes?" he asked gruffly. Toothless gulped, and unconsciously took a small step backwards.

"Uh… Could you let one of the dragons from the raid group go back to Caelkirk and let them know what is going on? They'll grow worried," Toothless replied. Matton narrowed his eyes further.

"I'm afraid I can't do that," Matton said, rejecting Toothless' plea. Toothless sighed and nodded, looking downcast. The eagle looked at the Night Fury, and decided to take pity on the dragon.

"However, if you tell me the location of Caelkirk, I will send a group of soldiers there and update them," Matton said. Toothless looked up at the dragon beamed at him.

"Oh, thank you! And if it isn't too much too ask, could you have the patrol give a message to a female Night Fury named Starlight? She needs to know to head over to Warfang," Toothless added, earning a nod from Matton.

"I can do that. Now, where is Caelkirk located?" Matton asked. Toothless looked around to make sure there weren't any eavesdroppers, gestured to Matton. The eagle knelt down, allowing the Night Fury to whisper in his ear the location of the village.

Matton stood up and nodded. Toothless bowed his head slightly in thanks, and dashed to where his friends and Markavir were waiting.

The four Avalarians waved their goodbyes before shifting to their alternate forms, giving them better stamina and much better for going on long-distance flights. The three dragons morphed into their quadrupedal forms, while Markavir turned into a much larger version of a feral golden eagle.

The group took off from the platform and aimed themselves south, in the direction of Warfang. It took them several minutes to reach a good flying altitude, where the airflow was better. The four placed a speed enchantment over themselves, and Cynder created a weak but easily maintainable air vortex around them to boost everyone.

With all that done, they settled in for a long flight back to Warfang, excited to see the Dragon City that lay at the heart of Avalar.

* * *

_Aas 17th, Season of Ice, Year 0, 77th age_

_Warfang, Kantior Region, Avalar, Aslore_

_4:26 PM_

To say Sparx was both bored and nervous would be an understatement. Aside from acting as a messenger for the Guardians, there was practically nothing for the dragonfly to do.

The Guardians were hard at work directing constructions crews, acting as councilors on the city board, and patrolling the perimeter of Warfang for any of Malefor's remaining forces. Besides, there wasn't much that they could do with him; they were more likely to go about meditating or training than talk to a tiny little dragonfly, who usually had nothing important to say.

He could spend time with Flame and Ember, the two fire dragons being wonderfully fun to hangout with (sometimes more-so than his brother and the scary she-dragon he went out with.) but they were just as nervous as him for the same reason.

Three weeks. Three nerve-wracking, agonizing, long weeks.

It had been three weeks since Ignitus, Cynder, and Spyro had set off to fight Malefor and stop him from destroying the world. Three weeks since they were last seen in the city, helping fight off invasions and repairing building.

Warfang, and undoubtedly the rest of the world, already figured that Malefor was defeated, and that the destruction of the planet had been stopped and reversed. Unfortunately, they didn't know if the three dragons had made it out alive, or if they should commence work on funerals for them.

Like everyone else in Warfang, Sparx prayed to every God and Ancestor he had ever heard of to assist the three with returning to the Dragon City. Sure, it was nice basking in the glory of being Spyro's "helping hand", but he had grown tired of it. All he wanted was to see his surrogate brother again.

The dragonfly floated through the halls of the old Temple in the center of Warfang, the antique building undergoing repairs and renovations in case of further attacks. It was a large Temple, larger than the one in his swamp. He found himself in the older, quieter section of the sanctuary, where it was easier for him to think.

He randomly wandered into one of the rooms, and found it empty but for a table and several couches lining the pale yellow walls. Like every other room in the Temple, the symbol of the Guardians hung over the doorway, and a soft yellow light was cast around the room by several glowing orbs on each wall.

Figuring that he wouldn't be needed for anything super important, the yellow dragonfly decided that a nice nap would be a good way to pass the time. Placing his hands behind his head, Sparx laid down on the couch cushion, and began dreaming of his home in the swamp.

He awoke several hours later, roused from sleep by a particularly nice dream about flying around Avalar Valley with several nice-looking dragonfly ladies, all of whom were begging for his attention.

But like all good dreams, they had to end eventually. Sparx found that he was still inside the Temple, still bored, and still waiting for Spyro and Cynder to return.

Sparx eventually grew tired of the room, and decided to head outside and see how Warfang was coming along. He buzzed out of the room and went back down the long corridors of the Temple.

As he exited the building he found that night had fallen on the battered city, with the stars and moons above high above providing what little light they could. There were some torches along this road, yes, but because there were so few walls left there was no place to hang a torch. This left vast stretches of the city were still blanketed in darkness.

The glowing yellow insect hovered along the ruined streets of the once great city, a yellow light in the darkness that was an old city block. Like many other citizens of Warfang, he mourned the loss of so many lives and buildings in the repeated invasion attempts on Warfang.

He did his best not to dwell on the deceased, and kept up his cheerful, positive attitude around others whenever he could. Making dragons, moles, cheetahs, birds, wyverns, and others who passed by him happy was something that made him feel good.

Sparx wandered down the street until it merged with one of the larger roads of Warfang. Here, creatures of all races and sizes walked freely, going to the various vendors set up along the sides and heading into various other buildings. It was nighttime, and many citizens were heading to bed.

The dragonfly stopped in the middle of the road, the chatter of people walking to and fro around him, and turned his head up the sky. Sparx gazed up at Iamar and Atia, wondering what it was like up in space. The stars and moons always calmed him, as they brought about a sense of tranquility wherever they shined their light.

Oh, how he wished Spyro and Cynder would return before he lost his freaking mind.

"Hey Sparx," said a nearby voice.

Sparx turned his head and saw Flame and his girlfriend Ember walking towards him. Citizens parted and moved out of the way of the two dragons as they neared the yellow dragonfly.

"Evening you two," Sparx greeted. Flame and Ember sat down next to him, and stared up at the stars. No words had to be said between them to know how each other was feeling: all three of them were anxious for Spyro and Cynder's return.

"The stars are beautiful tonight," commented Flame. Sparx nodded absent-mindedly, and continued to gaze up at the night sky. Ember leaned her head on Flame's shoulder and gazed at the different constellations of the stars.

Sparx's eyes gazed over Iamar, the moon closer to Aslore. Iamar was the home of many of the night and dark Gods and Goddesses, with Atia, the dragon Goddess of Dark and Mercy, being chief among them. The legend was Atia placed Iamar closer to Aslore as to keep a better on the world after a disastrous war against an ancient and powerful enemy.

Sparx never really payed attention during mythology lessons from Cyril, preferring to use that time to nap instead. Sure, he didn't know the myths behind how the moons were formed or how they kept magic in balance on the planet, but he didn't think that it would really matter if he knew that or not. He was just looking at Iamar because it looked pretty.

Iamar was very close to Aslore, and one could easily make out the gigantic impact craters that adorned its surface. Sparx liked looking at the craters and making shapes and animals out of them.

He was trying make a dragonfly with the craters when he noticed several black specks against the moon that definitely weren't there before. Apparently, he wasn't the only one to notice them.

"Uh, what are those dots?" Ember wondered, and got to her paws in case of trouble.

"And why do they appear to be getting _closer_?" questioned Flame. Straining his eyes, Sparx noticed that the specks did look like they were getting closer to them. In fact, one could make out that there were four black specks backdropped against Iamar.

Their questions caught the attentions of several citizens, who also began to look up at the moon. Fingers, claws, and paws were soon being pointed at the night sky, as more and more citizens stopped what they were doing to stare at the four figures.

Some citizens had looks of fear on their faces, likely believing that this was the start of another attack on the city. People began crying out in alarm, and several began running away in fear.

But Sparx knew better.

Though the figures were too far away to make out, Sparx just _knew_ who and what at least two of them were. He felt it in his gut, or whatever the dragonfly equivalent was. Sparx broke into a wide smile, gaining him a few stares from those around him.

"What is it, Sparx?" Flame asked. Sparx turned to him, grinning from ear to ear.

"It's Spyro and Cynder!" Sparx yelled. Almost immediately, those around the Sparx and his friends began whispering to each other. The word quickly spread throughout the city, and soon hundreds of dragons, avians, felines, canines, equines, and other species were filling the street. Several sentries rung bells as they spotted the dark objects in the sky, alerting the troops within Warfang.

Soon the entire city knew that they had incoming visitors, but none of them knew who or what they were.

"Move out of the way!" someone yelled, and Sparx heard the flapping of wings above him. He looked up and saw the Guardians and several sentries heading their way, searching for the one who raised the alarm.

Terrador, Volteer, Cyril, and the sentries landed in front of the dragons and dragonfly, the citizens around them giving the group a large berth. The three looked annoyed, their meeting with several city officials having been interrupted by the occasion.

"This had better be important" said Terrador, his deep, gravelly voice resonating within the two dragons and dragonfly. He sounded quite irritated. His rich green eyes darted between the young dragons and dragonfly. "We were in an important meeting."

Flame and Ember glanced at each other before directing their gaze at Sparx. Terrador followed their gaze to the little dragonfly. Sparx, who was checking out his hands, noticed the others staring at him.

"What?" he said. "Oh, yeah. There are four black dots heading this way, and I think two of them are Spyro and Cynder."

Terrador narrowed his eyes at the young dragonfly.

"Are you sure?" he asked, not entirely believing Sparx. "Joking about something as serious as that is-"

"I'm positive it's him! Call it a gut you've been around Spyro as long as I have, you kinda know when he's coming," Sparx explained.

Terrador stared at Sparx for several seconds before letting out a small sigh.

"I guess we can wait and see if it is them," said Terrador. Sparx pumped his fist in the air, yelling, "Yes!".

"However, if they are not Spyro and Cynder, then you will find yourself in a lot of trouble young dragonfly," Terrador quickly added. Sparx nodded grimly, and watched as Terrador turned back to the other Guardians.

Sparx turned around and looked up at the sky again, scanning for the black dots.

"Look! They're getting closer!" cried a female wolf, pointing to the four black dots that were steadily approaching Warfang. Every head in the street turned to where she was pointing, and the chatter in the road grew as everyone laid eyes on it.

A couple minutes passed, and the dots were close enough that those in the street could make out four figures coming their way. Terrador turned to one of the sentries and told them to send up a challenge flare. If the figures responded with the proper signal, they would be allowed into the city.

The sentry, a fire drake, blew a large, sparkling fireball high above Warfang, where it exploded harmlessly. The city, the forests surrounding it, and the night sky were illuminated by the red and yellow glow of the blast, and it briefly lit up the figures approaching Warfang..

Civilians throughout the city saw the flare, and, knowing who it was intended for, waited for a reply signal with baited breath. Sparx, Flame, Ember, and the Guardians all held their breath as they closely watched the sky.

Heads turned as a high-pitched whistling sound filled the air, reflecting off the numerous hills and valleys of Warfang. Many did not know what was causing the sound, but the eyes of those who did widened, not having heard that sound in a long, long time.

Ten seconds after the challenge flare was sent, the city received two response flares: one was a bright blue bolt that streaked across the sky before exploding above Warfang, and the other was a purple and red swirling ball of energy that lit up the ground below.

Cheers erupted throughout the city as they received the signal: Spyro and Cynder, the saviors of Aslore, had returned to Warfang! Civilians of all species hugged and kissed each other, elated that their heroes had finally come back.

The Guardians grinned, extremely excited that the two heroes were returning after being away for several weeks. Flame and Ember were ecstatic that their best friends were coming back, and hugged each other at the sight of the red and purple light in the sky.

"Yeah! Woohoo! They're back!" cheered Sparx, and began spinning around in circles.

"They survived after all!" yelled Cyril.

"Oh this is positively, certainly, easily amazing, astonishing, sur-" Volteer's tirade was cut off by Cyril's paw, which had clamped the electric dragons mouth shut. Cyril turned to Volteer and said, "try to keep your sentences short when they get here."

The electric dragon nodded, and Cyril released his hold on the elder dragon's muzzle. He and everyone else on the street watched as the four figures came closer to the city, now only minutes away.

The Guardians and young dragons could now definitively make out Spyro and Cynder among the figures, but were unable to recognize who the others were. One looked very bird-like, likely an avian of some type, but the other was barely seen against the night sky.

Flame and Ember shifted on their feet as they waited for the group to arrive, doing their best not to simply fly off to their friends. Sparx kept zipping in circles while the Guardians patiently waited for Spyro and Cynder to land. The excitement in the air was palpable.

The dragons in question soon flew over the walls, and more cheers erupted from the soldiers manning them. Everyone in the street watched and loudly cheered as Spyro and Cynder touched down onto the stone, their avian friend shifting before landing as well. Gasps went up from some of the elder members of the crowd as they saw the final figure speedily land next to Spyro and Cynder.

"Spyro! Cynder!" cried Flame and Ember, they and Sparx rushing to their friends. The four dragons embraced each other, delighted to be together again.

The five soon pulled away from each other, all of them with wide gris on their face. "You guys did it! You crazy, stupid lumps of dragons! You beat Malefor!" said Sparx as buried himself in Spyro's purple scales.

The four dragons laughed. "We were so worried that you were dead, or something else terrible had happened to you guys!" said Ember. "The whole city was on edge of any news about you two."

"We missed you guys as well. Every day we wondered how you all were doing," Spyro replied. He looked around at the mass of civilians surrounding the group, and was pleased to see so many faces there to greet them.

He and Cynder turned upon hearing a loud thumping noise, and finally noticed the Guardians sitting about ten feet away from them, Terrador's tail thumping against the stone. They gave a slight bow upon seeing their mentors.

"Spyro, Cynder. Welcome back to Warfang," warmly greeted Terrador, smiling at the two dragons. He took in the site of the two tired and weary dragons, and thanked the Gods for returning them home safely. "The city was worried that you two might never have returned.

"It's nice to be back, Terrador," Spyro thanked the large earth drake. He looked at the beautiful black dragoness to his right. "Right Cynder?"

Cynder smiled and nodded, adding, "we were worried that we wouldn't be able to find a way back home."

Terrador nodded and looked at the two figures next to them with a curious eye. "I noticed you brought some friends with you."

Markavir stepped forward and bowed to the Guardians, while Toothless gazed at the city in awe, oblivious to the proceedings currently going on.

"I am Markavir Honorwing, captain of the Orkirm Guard and representative of Orkirm," the eagle introduced himself. Terrador raised an eye ridge, and turned to Spyro and Cynder.

"We found ourselves in the forest they call home, near the Artisan homeland. They let us stay with them for a night so we could rest," Cynder explained. "Markavir discovered us wandering around in the trees, and brought us to his village."

"I see" Terrador nodded. "I am Terrador, the Earth Guardian. The blue dragon to my left is Cyril, the Ice Guardian, and the yellow dragon to my right is Volteer, the Electricity Guardian," said Terrador. Cyril walked up to the eagle, who only reached up to the top of his chest.

"You are welcome to stay here in Warfang, Captain. Be on your best behavior, though, and please do not insult the ancestry of anyone in this city. Especially mine," remarked the ice dragon. Markavir nodded slowly, while Volteer and Terrador sighed and shook their heads.

There was a loud gasp and a light yell as Volteer finally noticed the Night Fury that arrived and dashed over to him, nearly flattening the young dragon as Volteer put his face right up against Toothless'.

"A Night Fury? Here? And alive? Oh, this is stupendous, extraordinary, phenome-"

"Volteer, give him some space!" Terrador barked. Volteer stopped talking and sheepishly grinned before taking a couple steps backwards. He cleared his throat.

"My apologies. I was very excited to see a Night Fury in Warfang, after all we haven't had one in so long, and I was wondering where they had gone, and how they are doing, and-"

"Volteer, quiet your incessant babbling and let the dragon introduce himself!" Cyril yelled at the electric dragon, who finally realized how startled and wide-eyed the Night Fury was. His mouth formed an "o" as he stopped talking and gave the Night Fury some more room.

"Uhh, hi?" said the dragon, his ear flaps nervously pressed against his head. He took a couple steps backward, trying to distance himself from the crazy electric dragon. A few silent seconds passed as the Night Fury composed himself.

"My name's Toothless. I'm from the village of Calekirk, an-"

"Caelkirk?! I thought that town was razed by the Dark Army 20 years ago!" Cyril interrupted the Night Fury, drawing a look of ire from Toothless. THe

"There were actually few casualties when it was destroyed. The survivors made another city underground, and another generation of dragons were hatched there," Toothless explained. That remark caused Flame, Ember, and the Guardian's eyes to widen in surprise.

"More dragons? How many?" Terrador questioned. Toothless shrugged.

"About a thousand. Nowhere near as many here or over in Gitria, but it's still a lot." Murmurs rose from the crowd, and the Guardians glanced at each other. A thousand dragons that had escaped Malefor's wrath and were hiding in Avalar? The mere thought made heads spin.

"Terrador, we should send a search party over there; tell them it's safe to return to Warfang," Cyril said, walking up to the side of the earth dragon. "With that many dragons, we could definitely finish repairs earlier and start up a proper Academy."

"That is something to discuss another time, Cyril. Right now, I have more pressing question," replied Terrador. All this talk had distracted his mind from something far more important. He turned to Spyro, a look of worry in his eyes.

"Where's Ignitus, young dragon?" he asked.

Spyro knew this question would be coming, but there was still no way to prepare himself for it. It was one thing explaining it to Matton, who barely knew the dragon, and another to tell the Guardians. They had grown up with Ignitus, trained with him, became Guardians with him.

The mention of his mentor's name made Spyro's heart break all over again. His head drooped, and tears began forming in his eyes. Cynder leaned in close to him, but even the comfort she brought him couldn't help bring Ignitus back.

The purple dragon's expression said it all. The Guardians and Flame and Ember felt their spirits sink as if they were weighed down by the world itself. They prayed to the Gods that Spyro's silence didn't mean what they thought it did, but deep down they knew that Ignitus was dead.

"Ignitus...," Spyro began, his voice shaking as he looked into the eyes the Guardians. "He's… not coming back."

Gasps came from the crowd. Ember looked like she was about to burst into tears, and Flame draped a wing over her. Sparx's glow dimmed, and his antennae lay flat against his head in sorrow.

"How did it happen?" Terrador continued.

Hot tears trailed down Spyro's face as he looked at the ground, "H-He sacrificed himself to get us through the Belt of Fire. He used the last of his energy to save us from the flames, and and we couldn't save him."

The purple dragon turned his head away, unable to look at those around him. "I couldn't save him," he said quietly. Cynder nuzzled him and draped a wing over his back, comforting him as best she could.

"It's not your fault Spyro. Ignitus knew what the consequences of his actions were, and he did them for you," spoke the black dragoness. Spyro's tearful, purple eyes gazed into Cynder's green ones.

"Cynder is right Spyro. It was Ignitus' choice to make sure you both passed through safely. It was not your fault," Terrador reaffirmed. "He is with the Ancestors now, watching over you. I am certain he is incredibly proud of you."

"Yes. Let us not think of his death of an ending, Spyro. Instead, think of it as the beginning to a new era: an era free of Malefor!" yelled Volteer. Cheers erupted from the crowd, and Spyro smiled. Perhaps the world could finally know a peace it had not achieved in centuries.

Ember walked up to Spyro and hugged him tightly, Flame and Cynder doing the same seconds later. All of them were saddened by the loss of Ignitus, but none more so than Spyro.

"If there is anything you need, Spy, just let me know," Ember said, calling Spyro by his nickname. The purple dragon smiled again, encouraged by the support of his friends.

"There's a makeshift Temple just up the road that we've been staying in, with enough room for all of us. You four should come and rest; you've obviously had a long day," Cyril told the new arrivals, noticing how Spyro and Cynder looked about ready to collapse.

Toothless and Markavir gave slight bows in thanks. With that out of the way, Terrador turned to the crowd.

"Citizens, thank you for greeting our heroes, but please return to your homes for now! There will be more time to congratulate them in the future!" barked the green dragon. With that, most of the crowd dispersed, the excitement over for the night. A few people lingered a little longer, wanting to get one last look at the purple and black dragons before leaving.

"In the morning we can discuss what to do with you all now that Malefor is gone," said Terrador, receiving nods from those in front of him.

"Is Hunter here? I was hoping to see him again before going to bed," Spyro asked, looking around the street.

"He left back to his village for some important business there a two days ago. He told us he would return as soon as possible, likely in a day or two," Flame responded. Spyro nodded, wondering what the business was about.

"If there's nothing else you have to discuss then follow us," Terrador said. He and the other Guardians turned around and began walking to the Temple, with Flame and Ember following them. Toothless and Markavir both shrugged and followed them, eager to get some rest.

Spyro began walking forward as well, but stopped when he noticed that Cynder didn't seem to be following him. Looking behind him, he noticed that the dragoness in question was rooted to the spot, as if some force kept her from moving. She seemed to be scanning the rooftops of buildings around the street.

"You okay, Cyn?" Spyro asked out of concern. He and Sparx glanced at each other, her actions ringing alarm bells in their heads. Cynder didn't act like this unless she noticed something unusual..

The black dragoness nodded, but continued to look at the rooftops of the surrounding buildings. She thought that for a brief second she had seen something move around on the rooftops in her peripheral vision.

"It's nothing," she replied, turning to face the purple dragon. "Just thought I saw something out of the corner of my eye."

"Oh."

"And I'm just happy that the crowd's gone," Cynder sighed with relief, walking up to Spyro's side. She leaned against him. "I was getting uncomfortable with that many people."

"Hey," Spyro turned around and lifted her chin with one of his claws. "They didn't hurt or attack you. They're grateful that you and I. And if some still don't appreciate what you did for them, just ignore them."

Cynder smiled at his words and nuzzled the purple dragon's neck. Sparx playfully gagged at the sight, prompting Cynder to swat at him with her tail.

"You're so sweet," Cynder complimented Spyro gave her his famous goofy grin, causing the black dragoness to laugh. Spyro licked her face and leaned in close to her ear.

"Remember: don't tell the Guardians about that temple we found underneath the mountain," Spyro whispered to the black dragoness. She nodded.

"Spyro! Cynder! Hurry up you two lovebirds!" Ember playfully yelled from up the road. The black and purple dragons looked at each other, grinned, and raced each other to their friends.

The three Guardians led the way to the temple, with the dragons, Markavir, and Sparx following them. Spyro and Cynder walked with their friends, excited to be back home.

They all thought about what the afuture would bring.

It would take years, decades to return the planet to its former glory. Malefor's war had done untold destruction across the lands, and it was up to the survivors to fix what remained. Cities, towns, and villages had to be rebuilt. The lands had to be cleansed of dark magic, and kingdoms had to be restored.

The dragons knew that, and were ready to do their part to restore the planet. The coming weeks, however, would be ones of celebration of the end of the war and the return of the saviors of the planet. The race of dragons, scattered across the world, could at long last return home.

Spyro, Cynder, and their friends could finally live a normal life, without the fear of being killed or having the planet destroyed. They could go out into the world, helping those in need and going on their own adventures, discovering new things and ideas.

But that would have to wait. Sleep called to all of them, and they wouldn't want to miss it.

Tomorrow would be a new day, one that they would be sure not to waste.

* * *

Glowing orange eyes followed the group from atop a nearby building, watching as the dragons walked down the street to the new Temple.

"They have returned to the city," came a dark, raspy voice from underneath a black cloak.

"Good. You are to watch them for several decades while I gain my strength. Follow them everywhere they go. Find out everything about them: their strengths, their weaknesses, what they believe in, what they _love_," hissed another voice from inside the cloth.

The figure drew out a black orb from the cloak with disfigured fingers. The sphere glowed an unearthly blue. Something inside it seemed to shift as the figure rubbed its palm over it.

"When should I kill them?" asked the figure.

"When I tell you. Killing this world now would be disadvantageous to our cause. Instead, find anyone that you can corrupt; their knowledge will be useful."

"Any specific creature in mind?"

"No. But if you can, try to plant the seeds of corruption inside the heads of those in power; it'll make it easier to turn this world."

"I will, master."

"When the time is right, we will wash over this pathetic world and turn it; corrupt it to one of our own. With the strength of those on this planet belonging to us we will finally have the power we need to destroy the Gods themselves."

"It will be done," nodded the figure as the orb stopped glowing. The figure placed the orb away in its cloak before turning away from the edge and walking towards the center of the city. The air around it shimmered as the figure suddenly disappeared from sight, no trace of it having ever been there remaining.

It would complete its mission. It would turn this world against itself. And when the time came, it would bring down the final blow on the one being that could possibly throw all of its masters' plans in jeopardy:

The purple savior of Aslore, Spyro.

* * *

In a room a thousand miles away from Warfang, a lone figure peered into a small pool filled with a blue liquid. A large transparent hourglass sat in front of it, the top bulb slowly dripping a blueish, viscous liquid into the the bottom bulb. The bottom bulb contained almost none of the thick fluid, the hourglass having flipped over several days prior. With the dawn of a new Era, the hourglass had been reset, and a new Chronicler had been chosen.

The room itself was lit up by a soft blue light, one that was easy on the eyes of the dragon standing over the Pool of Visions. Shelves filled with books, vials, and other assorted objects lined the walls of the room, with glowing blue and white runes decorating the interior. Several books and large tomes were scattered about the floor of the chamber, pages detailing the lives of dragons, cheetahs, moles, Avians, and all others who lived on Aslore spilling out of the covers.

On either side of the room were a set of three golden orbs that radiated light, their surfaces giving off a yellow sheen that glowed in the soft light of the chamber. Hung beneath them were several brown, tattered banners with ancient markings and symbols sewn into them.

The figure hummed as it watched the young dragons, happy that they were finally able to live in a world of peace and not one of war. Although he had been tasked by the previous Chronicler to watch over all the people of Aslore, Ignitus couldn't help but pay most of his attention to the four young dragons and their friends.

All of them were special, having been born in the Year of the Dragon. Unfortunately only they and a few others had survived.

Almost an entire generation of dragons had been lost, from the peaceful Dreamweavers to even the Dovah of the north by the hand of Malefor. Spyro, Cynder, Flame, Ember, and Toothless were lucky to have survived through the war and have a future.

The former Guardian walked away from the large pool of water that surrounded the large hourglass, finished watching the four teenage dragons as they walked to their new home in the city. He would continue to watch over them as they grew up together and went about their lives. His was cut short; 712 years of life was quite short for dragons. However, it had been his destiny to die protecting Spyro and Cynder from the Ring of Fire, and to become the Chronicler of the new Era.

He didn't want Spyro to know that he was, in essence, still alive. Spyro needed to move on and start focusing on his new role as a defender of the world. There was much the teenage dragons still had to do: reunite the dragon empires, help with the reconstruction of Warfang, build a new dragon temple, and countless other jobs that would undeniably arise.

When the time was right he would show the young dragons, his cousin Kindle, and the remaining Guardians that he was still alive… and apologize to his daughter for not telling her the truth. She had a right to know who her parents were and what she really was. It broke his heart that he never got the chance to tell her, but there simply wasn't enough time. But most wearing on his heart, was his shame that he kept her a secret from the guardians and had broken his vows to never have children.

Ember would eventually learn. Maybe not now, maybe sometime in the future. Dragons could live for thousands of years, she was intelligent and would discover her heritage. And when she did, Ignitus would finally have the peace he had sought after for so long. He could finally rest easy with knowing that he had fulfilled his mates' final wishes.

And though Flame wasn't his son, the fire drake would also find out in time who his parents were. Ignitus never knew them personally, but he had heard incredible stories of their prowess as masters of their elements, and used techniques that not even the Guardians knew. Though both of them were dead, killed by Malefor's own hand, Ignitus had felt the abilities of Flame's parents within the young dragon. He just had yet to fully awaken them.

The four young dragons had a plate full of tasks that would be crucial to uniting the world again. With the centuries-long war against Malefor now over, the group of friends had all the time in the world to reunite the species located all across Aslore. They had time to grow their blossoming relationships with each other, time to explore the world and see all its glories and horrors that were just waiting to be discovered.

Unfortunately, time was something that the old dragon did not have a lot of. Due to his new position in the world as the Chronicler he had a meeting with some very powerful individuals. They were the ones who kept the world going smoothly and only stepped in when a cataclysmic disaster was about to happen.

In fact, they were the ones who had sealed Malefor away in the core of the world.

Fortunately for him, he still had some time before the meeting. It wasn't much, maybe an hour at best, but it would give him the chance to solve a mystery that had been bugging him for years.

He knew who the parents of Flame and Ember were, but he had never truly figured out who the parents of Spyro and Cynder were. He had guesses, theories and ideas, but had never figured who they were. The records of any dragon that had been born before the two were lost when Malefor had first attacked the Temple in Warfang. Almost everything had been destroyed, and as both an example and great feat of power Malefor had torn the Dragon temple out of the ground and hurled several dozen miles away into a swamp.

When dragonkind and its allies were able to start pushing Malefor back they reclaimed the Temple, hoping to find anything still usable. Unfortunately, time, the atmosphere of the swamp, and the denizens of the place had ravaged the ancient Temple, and nothing of value was left. When it had been reclaimed and the eggs for the next year of the dragon were delivered to the Temple, there was great surprise amongst the Guardians that there was still a purple egg and a black egg.

No one had seen any dragon deliver the eggs, nor was there any sign or record of the two eggs. It was as if they had just appeared out of nowhere. Ignitus had given up hope that the parents of the two would be ever be found.

But now, as the new Chronicler, he had access to the books that told the stories of both dragons. And with time before his meeting, he decided to find the answers to the questions he had had for years.

"Let's take a look, shall we?" said Ignitus, thinking of the two dragons. Two books from a shelf behind him flew over and floated in front of him. One was a deep purple with red and gold highlights, while the other was a midnight black with red and white swirls tracing along the sides of the thick tome.

He opened the purple and gold book. He took a deep breath. He **had** to know. It would bring him a sense of closure; knowing that he could finally rest with the knowledge of who the parents of the two dragons were.

He read and read the names, unprepared for his confusion. It did not make sense.

"I-I-It can't be!" he exclaimed, his voice echoing off the walls of the main chamber.

He recognized one of the drakes; he was an Apostry, a rare type of light dragon that lived on the far side of the world. They were skilled and honorable warriors and understood the healing magic, but most fascinating about them was their ability to manipulate light itself.

This particular Apostry was renowned across the world for he had broken with his culture and became an outcast. The Apostry had stumbled upon Warfang when he was in his teens, which was around the same age that Ignitus was at the time.

The identity of the other drake confused him greatly. He was a time dragon, or Tempusian as they were called. Guardians of the Time Streams, Tempusians were gifted with a magic that others deemed Godlike. The problem, though, was that no one had seen a Time Dragon for nearly 11,000 years.

_But, I thought she was with… no, that doesn't make sense! Why would he do that?_

It was the names of the dragonesses that disturbedhim most. He had known both of them since they were eggs, and had grown up with them during the middle of the war with Malefor.

Ignitus shut both books and closed his eyes as memories came rushing to him. They were ones he had tried to hide away for so long.

The fire guardian-turned-Chronicler placed both tomes back on their shelf. He didn't want to think about the past revealed in both books. It was too painful.

Ignitus turned away from the shelf and padded towards the door. He had to leave for his meeting. He would be having some choice words with them about their actions.

* * *

"We'll have to focus on that later. We need to prepare this Realm and those around it for when it comes."

"Look, I know that it's coming, but we really need to let them rest a little bit. A couple years at least. They just defeated Malefor, let them have some fun."

"There's no time. Another Realm just fell to the enemy."

"How close to us?"

"It was the Jisoncu Realm."

"What? They have one of the strongest militaries in the Realms! How did they lose?!"

"They brought in everything they had, but were still defeated. They lasted for decades, and may have weakened it enough for us to go through with our plan."

"How long do you think peace will last in Aslore before it arrives?"

"I can't say for certain. But at the rate of expansion I estimate around thirty years before the we see the first signs."

"That's not much time. Last I checked it was only taking over one Realm every couple centuries."

"I'm afraid so. It's pace has quickened, and there is little defending the edge of our world against it."

"Well, there are their parents…"

"Yes, but we can't let them know that. If they found out they would go out of their way to find them and most likely get killed in the process. They are our only hope to close the portals that will eventually open to our Realm."

"Do you think we will have to ask the God-killers for help?"

"I hope not, but we might have to. The purple dragon has only learned four of the seventeen elements. The female still has to learn the other ones that Malefor locked away within her. Several Guardians are either hidden or trapped by powers beyond our ability to control."

"Should we ask the Celestials for help? They might have the necessary pow-"

"Even if we commanded them to help there would not be much they could do. They may be powerful, but even they can't stop it by themselves."

"Then what do we do? Sit here and let our Realm die? We must tell the others now about this; they need to know our plan and what it would mean for us."

"Fine. We'll tell them. But you need to guide the young dragons, as well as their friends, so that they learn enough in time to fight it. They are key to stopping this threat."

"If we are forced to call on the others, how should we explain it to the other Realms? You know how much they hated the Warmasters. There are many Realms that are glad to finally be free of their influence, especially that of Bahamut and his ilk. If we bring them here, the other Realms will notice, and we will have a lot of explaining to do."

"Bahamut, Obum, Myesis, it doesn't matter what they think. If there is no other option, we will bring the Warmasters back, and let them loose on our greatest enemy. They are our last hope, a light in the darkness, that we can use when all else fails."

"Then let's find a way to make sure that that never comes to pass."

* * *

**Th****is concludes the first Arc of the story.**

**Some notes about this story:**

**Yes, most creatures of Aslore (the planet that Avalar and the other continents are located on) that are bipedal or have anthro forms have four-fingered hands. Weird I know, but that's been present in most of the Spyro games, even the classic ones. I see dragons as having a dew claw like canines, thus giving them the extra finger in their anthro/bipedal forms.**

**No, there won't be kids: yet. They will happen, but more towards the end of the story. The gang (Spyro, Cynder, Flame, and Ember) have more important things to do: being ambassadors, learning more about their elements, helping Warfang rebuild, etc.**

**See you next time, and don't forget to review!**


	7. Arc 2: Chapter 1(6): A Changed World

**A/N:**

**Awesome! We breached 2,500 views!**

**This is a very big chapter, and is in fact the longest thing I have ever written.****Here's the music:**

**1\. Where No One Goes - Jonsi**

**2\. Wardaddy - Steven Price**

**3\. Day at the Market - Antti Martikainen**

**4\. Dragon Village - Spyro the Dragon**

**5\. Classical Music for Weddings - Various artists**

**6\. Reunion (Kaoru Wada)**

**7\. Flight Home (Guardians of Ga'Hoole)**

**Aslore months - Earth months:**

**Aas = January**

**Yiln = February**

**Maur = March**

**Qlist = April**

**Criw = May**

**Exard = June**

**Gecus = July**

**Ikall = August**

**Sruln = September**

**Druvirt = October**

**Frurst = November**

**Karis = December**

**The Legend of Spyro and its characters belong to Activision. Toothless and the Night Furies belong to Dreamworks.**

**I own the plot, my characters, and many of the ideas of this story.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Gecus 5th, Season of Fire, Year 30, 77th age

Eastern limits, Warfang, Avalar, Aslore

5:36 AM

It has been 30 years since Malefor's defeat, the continent of Avalar has slept peacefully. There was no fear of attack by the Dark Army, no restless nights fof fighting, and no threat of planetary destruction looming.

Los, Aslore's sun, peeked over the eastern horizon of Warfang, brightening the sky and turning the clouds a deep red and orange. Those who lived in the eastern outskirts of Warfang were subject to a beautiful sunrise. Light from Los revealed the magnificent forests and lakes of Avalar, which gleamed in the light.

The quiet of the land was ruined as a jet black dragon raced across the sky, alarming flocks of birds and scattering animals on the forest floor. The dragon released a loud whoop of excitement as he danced in the clouds and zoomed over the tree tops, bending them in his wake.

The Night Fury twirled in the sky, loving the feel of the crisp, fresh air against his scales. He dodged and weaved around the trees and cliffs of Avalar like a hummingbird amongst flowers, crying out in joy as he raced across the valley. The rush he felt from reaching such tremendous speeds made him feel alive.

Toothless hummed a happy tune1 as he played in the sky. He loved to go where no else went, and explore strange new things he saw in the wild. His observations in the wild had provided him with so many ideas for his inventions, which the people of Warfang had responded to with delight.

Extending his leathery wings,, the black dragon blasted upwards into the sky, spinning around in circles before breaking through the cloud layer. Water vapor curled off his dark scales as he rose higher and higher, until the forest below looked like a giant mass of green.

Closing his eyes, the Night Fury tucked in his wings and let his momentum carry him until he slowed and began falling back to the ground. His ear flaps pressed against the side of his head as the deafening wind rushed past his form.

Toothless spiraled towards the ground, his eyes held firmly shut. He reached out with his senses, feeling the air shift and flow over his sleek, aerodynamic body.

He could tell how far he was from the ground by listening to distinctive changes in the way the sound rushed past his ear flaps and how the pressure changed minutely across his scales, an ability that only Night Furies had.

He figured he was around two thousand feet from the ground; the perfect altitude to test out his new invention. Shifting his body, he adjusted the leather pack on his back to a good, comfortable position, and waited for the right moment.

If the invention failed, he could always rely on his wings to slow him down. However, if he had gotten all his calculations and theories correct, then he wouldn't need to, and those without wings could finally have a way to fly as well.

Now! he yelled in his head, and jerked on a cord that ran over his shoulder to the backpack. A flap located on the outside of the pack opened, and a large sheet of magical cloth unfolded. Toothless felt the wind get knocked out of him as the cloth yanked him upwards, his speed dramatically decreasing. Folding his wings, he let the windsail slowly help him glide down to the ground. Toothless laughed in excitement.

He had found a way for wingless creatures to experience the joy of flight! Granted, it wasn't true flight, but this offered a way for them to fall without worry!

The Night Fury pulled on one of the cords, sending a surge of energy through the magical nodes. These were set to let out small bursts of air, having been set to the wind element. The nodes fulfilled their purpose, and pushed some more air up into the sail, raising the sail up.

Toothless beamed: his other idea, a way to control direction with the windsail, was also a complete success! He couldn't wait to let everyone know about his new invention, especially his mate Starlight.

He glided over the expansive forest as he made his way back down to earth. When he landed, he found himself at the edge of a large lake near the boundary of Warfang. Krurb Lake, if he remembered correctly.

Toothless looked around and sighed, realizing that he had taken enough time off patrolling and had to do the next part of his job.

This is where a dragon belongs: up in the air, thought the Night Fury. He felt so free in the sky. It was a freedom that was always available, one that could never be given up or replaced. Here, amongst the clouds, he was free.

Unfortunately, that freedom had its limits. Yes, he was free from his duties, but only for some time. So he made sure to enjoy the freedom while it lasted.

Toothless packed the windsail back, making sure that none of the nodes were damaged. He tightened the straps across his chest and gazed around at the shimmering blue surface of the lake, the light of the sun reflecting off its surface. He decided that this would be a good place to return and practice using his windsail. That in itself made up for the fact he still had some work to do.

The Night Fury lifted off and headed West across the forests of Warfang. He rose high into the air again, keeping an eye out for anything unusual on the border. Luckily there didn't seem to be anything today.

He made his way to one of many settlements located on the outskirts, the wood and stone buildings coming into sight as he passed over a large, winding river. It wa still early in the morning and the world still slept.

Toothless fired a blue and purple plasma bolt over the settlement. The bright blue ball of energy exploded over the town, waking a couple hundred of its residents. Hearing the distinctive explosion, they knew that it was time to get up, and soon began going about their day.

The Night Fury circled the area until he saw people getting out of their homes. A couple of them looked up and waved to him. He waved back before banking right, his large wings propelling him forwards as he headed toward another one of the small villages that dotted the boundaries of Warfang.

The drake acted as Warfang's Chief Scout and the morning alarm. His shift was at night - where his black scales helped him blend in with the sky- and he patrolled the outskirts of the city until morning where he would fly around Warfang and fire plasma bolts to awaken the citizens below.

Warfang, or as some would call it "the Aslorian Jewel", had grown nearly tenfold in both size and population over the past thirty years. Millions of dragons, canines, felines, moles, equines, and other species called the great city home, a far cry from the time when the city's population was a mere 500,000.

Toothless remembered those days where it seemed that Warfang was already the largest city on Aslore. He vividly recalled the first time he had walked into the Market: thousands of creatures of all different races and sizes, hundreds of stalls selling wares, and a feeling of happiness that he just couldn't describe.

That was when Warfang was technically "small." Now, it was the largest city on the planet.

But Warfang hadn't just grown in population size. About a week after he arrived in Warfang, there was a sudden, massive influx of new people. The city couldn't fit them all with the little room they had, and expanded their borders to compensate. As more and more people kept coming, Warfang kept getting larger and larger, and was now five and half times its original size.

This was his favorite part of his job to the awaken the City. Toothless soon arrived at the next village, and fired off another plasma bolt. He continued this routine across the entirety of the outskirts of Warfang, waking up the various towns and villages that dotted the border. Many of them were farm and hunter based settlements, with a few metal working shops and outposts spread throughout.

The settlements in the outskirts consisted almost entirely of adults and very young children, while teenagers lived and studied at the Warfang Academy.

The Academy was not strictly for dragons, but for anyone who wanted to learn. Whether magic, smithing, elemental manipulation, or more exotic interests such as techno-magic.

Warfang made it mandatory for all children to begin learning at the Academy when they turned six, regardless of species. The first decade of education followed a set of standards that was designed for the different races. For example, a dragon would learn about flying and elemental manipulation while a canine would be taught how to use magic and hunt. After the standard decade, they were allowed to broaden their learning.

Toothless remembered attending the Warfang Academy about a year after arriving in Warfang. He took classes designed for Night Furies: how to use his echolocation, the best way to shoot plasma blasts, flying, and how to read air currents.

Which he was reading now. The sun warmed air was making the air lift and he would need to change his altitude to get back home faster, if he wanted to get back to say goodbye to his mate and children before they went to work and school.

Toothless had three children: two boys and a girl, all born in the same clutch of eggs. They were turning seven this year, and were doing quite well at the Academy. Especially at flying, Toothless grinned.

Finished with the wide expanse of the valley, Toothless turned and headed to the outer city, the largest part of Warfang itself. The outer city itself was quite old, long before Malefor started his war, but its expansion was quite recent.

The Night Fury angled himself up and flapped his wings harder, greatly increasing his speed. He broke through the cloud layer and breathed deeply, loving the smell of the air up here. With the sun now up the sky was a beautiful blue, and Toothless could make out black specks in the distance, likely birds or other guards.

He glided through the sky. There were no clouds ahead of him, giving him a good view of the land below. It was a rich green and brown, with little streams of blue spread throughout the ground.

As he approached the outer city, the light from Los began shining down on the large metropolis. The City was waking up.

The black dragon folded in his wings and dove down, descending rapidly, appearing as a black streak across the sky. His tongue lolled out of his mouth, a habit he had somehow picked up over the years.

He charged up a large plasma bolt in his mouth as he neared the limits of the outer city. Hot gasses released by an organ near his throat gathered in the back of his throat and swirled together, waiting for a spark to light it all up.

As Toothless flew over the first group of houses he ignited the gases and opened his mouth, releasing the bright bolt of energy into the air. It streaked through the air before detonating over a large apartment complex, a loud thud shaking the ground. Many of those sleeping were awoken by the noise, with some being startled out of bed.

Quick as lightning, the black dragon flew over the complex and moved onto the next. A mass of houses and apartments stood dark, with no ones moving inside. This was an area of slightly higher income workers, and most of the houses and apartments were built for groups of three or more.

The lights turned on inside all of them seconds after a ball of plasma burst overhead, awakening several dozen homes.

He eyed the hundreds of magical lines and floating poles that carried power to each of the houses, and smiled to see them in use by the citizens of the city.

After graduating from the Academy 25 years ago, Toothless found that his skills with techno-magic could be put to great use in Warfang. He had heard of a mole called the Professor, who was an expert on techno-magic.

Since both of them wanted to make life better for Warfang, they created a scientific community composed of magic and tech specialists to invent devices that would help the city. The first of this was a large power grid that ran throughout the city, and soon after came up with ways to create a portal system that connected all parts of the city.

Their inventions revolutionized the world, and soon every continent on Aslore was using portals, power grids, flying vehicles, miniature golems and other inventions by the group.

The techno-magic poles were transmitters of the magical energy of Aslore, which was extracted at special plants and transformed into an energy form that could be used to power homes. Because Aslore's planetary energy constantly renewed itself thanks to the Magic crafters and the Gods, there was power for everyone.

Toothless was snapped out of his scientific thoughts and memories of the past by the sight of still unlit sections of the city. There was still a lot of ground to cover, and with the yellow sun rapidly ascending into the sky, the world's fastest dragon decided to take a shortcut. Grinning, Toothless pooled some magic around him and tele-hopped to the farthest section of the outer city, almost 30 miles away, and began rapid-firing plasma bolts all over the city.

He was done forty-five minutes later, but was still behind schedule. Starlight and his children were likely getting up now, and there was still the entire inner city to do.

After launching a plasma bolt over the final section of the city, Toothless whirled around in the air to look at his handiwork. What used to be a darkened and quiet area was now brightly lit and bustling with activity.

The sun reflecting off his matte black scales, Toothless turned to the mass of condensed buildings that was the inner city. Beating his wings as hard as he could, the Night Fury zoomed toward the residential area, reaching it in a matter of seconds.

The inner city was unique in the fact that it was built on top of Mount Flare, which used to be just south of Warfang before the city expanded its borders. It was located higher up than the outer city. The tops of some buildings rose high enough into the sky that their tops couldn't be seen on a foggy day. Every structure was constructed with golden stone, and enhanced with powerful magics to keep it from falling apart.

The inner city was where much of the major infrastructure of Warfang was located, such as banks, markets, government buildings, medical centers, magic grids, and the Spire of the King's Court. It was much more industrial compared to the outer city, but there were a couple of parks filled with greenery and wildlife spread throughout.

The inner city was considerably smaller than the outer areas, which made Toothless' job much easier. Running low on time, he decided that it would be much easier to simply shoot a more powerful plasma bolt than numerous small ones.

Saying a quick prayer to Noraza, the Goddess of swiftness, Toothless increased his speed to the absolute max.

The tell-tale screech of a Night Fury echoed across Warfang as Toothless bolted through the sky. He charged up his largest bolt so far in his maw, causing a blue glow to emanate from between his scaly lips.

With a loud shriek, the plasma leapt from the Night Fury's mouth and quickly accelerated towards the top of the Spire. It detonated harmlessly over the roof, but the noise and light emitted from the blast reached the ground below.

Plenty of citizens were startled out of bed, while others were easily awoken from their slumber. Those who were already awake watched as blue light filled the sky by the plasma blast, before going back to whatever they were doing.

His work completed, Toothless rose into the morning sky for one last free-fall before returning home. As he ascended higher and higher, he could just tell that today was going to be a good day.

* * *

Academy District, Inner City, Warfang

7:43 AM

Two miles from the Academy, and next to one of the parks of the inner city, stood a gold colored two-story house made of enchanted stone. Aside from the large garden in the front yard and the balcony on the roof, there was nothing particularly special about the house.

That is, until one knew whom it belonged to. This was the house of the legendary dragons, Spyro and Cynder.

Spyro and Cynder lived in a simple house. Most of the wood was clean and light colored from common Avalarian trees, and the furniture was functional and sparse. The stone, however, was important to them. It was exquisitely carved and handsomely polished from an old spire in the Warfang ruins. It reminded them of the toll of Malefor's war, and how high the price was for victory.

On the second floor was the master bedroom, the walls painted in a swirl of purple and black. A soft white rug with gold trimming lay on the floor beneath the large wooden bed. Intricate designs were carved into wooden posts, which reached from the corners of the bed to the ceiling above.

The ceiling was made of glass and stone, with a spell cast on it that could make it transparent anytime the user chose. Currently, light from the sun streamed in through the roof and highlighted the form of a sleeping ebony dragoness.

Cynder woke up to the noise of a plasma blast going off above her house. She could feel the thud of it resounding in her chest, rattling her bones and jarring her awake. Even after Gods know how many years since Toothless started this new routine of his, Cynder could never get used to the Night Fury alarm clock.

The she-dragoness blinked a couple times, her pupils slitting as they adjusted to the light, and yawned. A series of pops came from her back as she stretched out like a cat. The adult dragoness didn't want to get out of bed just yet, so she turned over to cuddle up against her mate.

To her surprise however, she didn't feel Spyro's warmth against her.

Alarmed and confused, her emerald eyes snapped open. The large purple dragon wasn't there. In fact, he wasn't in the bed at all. She raised her head from the bed and looked around the room. Unfortunately, she didn't see Spyro anywhere in their quarters.

"Spyro?" she called out, her voice echoing throughout the house. There was no response except for the sounds of people outside. She couldn't feel him nearby, and wondered if he was somewhere in the house.

Cynder lifted the covers with a wing and scooted out of bed. Maybe Spyro was somewhere else in the house? Still in her quadruped state (the form she found most comfortable sleeping in), Cynder walked out of the large room and into the hallway.

Paintings and murals covered the walls of the hallway, but Cynder paid them no mind. The dragoness descended the spiral staircase to the living room, looking for her mate.

Where could he be? she wondered as she padded down the large halls to the kitchen. Her tail swished from side to side, and she had to be careful to keep her sharp tailblade from damaging the walls.

Cynder walked through the main room, and noticed that Spyro's Guardian necklace was missing from its cubby. Did he leave to the Academy already? Cynder thought as she entered the next room.

The kitchen was simple yet appeasing to the eyes. A dark marble countertop separated the it and the living room. They had a stove designed by Toothless that was able to switch between different functions ranging from a stovetop to an oven. Overhead rested a light orb that turned on when it detected a nearby presence.

The dining table was to the far left of the kitchen, a cupboard of cups, bowls, plates, and utensils sitting next to it. A plate of something sat on the wooden tabletop. From her position it looked brown and black, with some red liquid on the side.

Taking a small whiff, Cynder noticed a smell of cooked meat lingering in the air. Her sensitive nose discerned it to be several hours old. Did Spyro forget to put his breakfast away? Sure, meat was treated so that it couldn't go bad, but that didn't mean he could just leave it sitting out.

Cynder looked around for her purple drake. She didn't see him behind the counter or at the dining table, and was about to walk back out when she noticed a note laying on the black granite countertop.

The dragoness shifted to her bipedal form, a nightgown magically appearing on her body, and picked up the note. It was in Spyro's handwriting, and was addressed to her.

Cynder -

I've gone to the Academy already. I woke up early this morning to this weird feeling I was having, like something bad happened. I couldn't fall back asleep, and I didn't want to wake you, so I decided to take a stroll through the park before going to the Academy.

I'm assuming you were woken by Toothless, which for me will be in a few hours from now. I made some breakfast for you; you can find it on the table. It's some venison I bought from the market, cooked just the way you like it.

I'll see you at the Academy in a couple of hours.

Love,

Spyro

Cynder smiled as she read the note, happy that Spyro was looking out for her. She was slightly disappointed that he hadn't woken her up to talk about it; that's what mates did, right? Help each other with any problems they had?

The dragoness read the letter several more times, finding the first part of it highly curious. The more she read it the more she felt like she wouldn't be able to provide her mate much support. Spyro didn't get feelings like the one he described very often. Whatever caused it must've been big to get such a reaction from him.

The last time he had gotten a feeling like that was remnants of the Dark Army tried to invade Imura, the land of the Dream weavers, 15 years ago. Thankfully, they were able to locate and route the army before they reached Imura because of a foreboding feeling Spyro had.

I hope it's nothing serious, Cynder thought. We've had peace for 30 years now. There shouldn't be anything left to cause a problem.

Cynder's stomach growled, and she realized that she was quite hungry after not eating dinner last night. That's what happens when you're up til midnight grading papers, she mused.

Remembering the words on the note, the black dragoness padded over to the dining table. Just like Spyro said, there was a plate of venison sitting on the oakwood table, bringing a smile to Cynder's face. It had cooled down after being left-out for a while, but a couple seconds of Cynder's black and red flame breath heated it right back up.

Shifting into her bipedal form, Cynder sat down and began cutting her slice of venison into tinier pieces. As she took a bite her mouth exploded with flavor, and she found herself reminded of the fact that Spyro was a great cook.

As the black dragoness ate her meal, her mind began to wander back to her days in the Academy with Spyro and her friends. Classes had started a year after the war ended, right when Warfang was putting every effort into rebuilding. The other Guardians who had left Warfang to support the other kingdoms during the war returned around that time. There were more dragons to teach in the ways of elemental manipulation, and they wanted to get back to their original jobs as soon as possible.

There had been a celebration for the returning Guardians, who were excited to be back in Warfang. They all had stories to tell of how they survived and fought back against the Dark Army, and it was nice seeing all the dragon Guardians gathered again, save for three. Two of them, the Soul and Fury Guardians, were declared missing, while everyone knew what had happened to the Fire Guardian.

Ignitus…

* * *

Aas 17th, Season of Ice, Year 3, 77th Age

Warfang Academy, Avalar, Aslore.

1:30 PM

A stranger wouldn't even have to know what the occasion was to tell that those gathered in the plaza were mournful. And who wouldn't be? Today was the day that Warfang revealed the memorial to Ignitus and those who died in the Great War.

Ten months ago, the entire continent of Avalar declared that Aas 17th would be a "Memorial Day": a holiday remembering soldiers, civilians, and anyone else killed in the war against Malefor. A tribute to those who fought and died for justice and peace.

Warfang decided to kick off the tradition with a large gathering in the city. They invited anyone and everyone who wanted to attend. Several leaders of foreign lands came, but the majority of civilians in the audience were primarily from Avalar. The journey across continents was a long one, and most people wouldn't want to attempt it.

Cynder, Spyro, and their friends (including Toothless and his girlfriend Starlight) all sat next to each other on the benches around the podium. Like everyone else, they were in their bipedal forms. The six dragons and dragonfly were given either dresses or suits to wear for the day. The outfits were entirely black, considering this was essentially a mass funeral.

Some seven and a half million people of all races were attending as well, requiring the city to build hundreds of thousands of platforms so that everyone could see what was going on. Many of these platforms floated above the ground, pulsing blue energies of magical stones and various contraptions keeping them afloat.

They were gathered around what would soon be the new Warfang Academy. The building had started construction soon after Spyro and Cynder returned, and was finished only two days ago. The interior still needed several weeks to be fully furnished, and after that the Guardians could start moving in and setting up classes.

Cynder gazed at the large building, impressed by its size. The Academy was massive, and likely the largest building in Warfang by volume. It could hold almost ten thousand students at any particular time. Aside from classrooms and lecture halls, there were also cafeterias, libraries small parks, study areas, and gymnasiums.

Due to design limitations, the only dorms on campus were reserved for young orphans, and children, and their caretakers. Everyone else had to live in off-campus dorms, many of which were located in the outer city.

The remnants of the old Swamp Temple floated a hundred feet above the massive Academy. Amazingly, Warfang scouts who were patrolling the area of the destroyed Mountain of Malefor had found the Temple intact. Somehow, it had survived its enormous fall from several thousand feet above the ground.

The Temple had been cleansed of the terrible, vile magic and elements of Malefor, and was habitable again. The Guardians decided to place it at the new Academy, where it would remain as a relic of the war. Now, powerful magics held it in the air, and it was used as the home for the Guardians, Cynder, Spyro, and their friends.

Cynder's attention was drawn back to the podium by the sound of flapping wings. Looking up, she saw the King and Queen of Gitria, the Artisan capital city, land on the cobblestone inside the gates with their entourage. They bowed to the Guardians and Warfang council members, before taking their seats at the stands to the right.

The Academy plaza was packed tight with people. The green grass that encircled the cobblestone entrance was crushed by the large benches. In the center of it all was a statue, but no one knew of what. A black cloth was draped over it, hiding the statue from view until it was time for the big reveal.

"There are so many people here," commented Spyro, his amethyst eyes darting from person to person.

"You say that as if it's a bad thing," Cynder replied.

"Well, gigantic crowds aren't my favorite thing in the world," Spyro said with a slight sigh, picking up a box sitting next to him and placing it on his lap. His scaled hands traced several of the lines carved into the box. Inside was something incredibly precious to both him and the other Guardians.

"I miss him," Spyro remarked. Cynder caught the sad, longing tone in his voice, and rested a hand on his shoulder. Hunter, who was at the assembly as well, looked over at the young dragon.

Ember turned around in her seat and regarded Spyro with a sorrowful look.

"We all do, Spyro. He was like a father to the four us," she mourned, and slowly turned to face the thing underneath the cloth. A pair of warm tears bubbled at the corners of her eyes, "especially me."

Flame reached over and grasped Ember's hand with his own. The pain she felt from Ignitus' loss was only enhanced by a discovery made not more than a week ago.

While going through Ignitus' stuff left in the Swamp Temple, Ember and the Guardians found a secret box hidden in the wall. It bore the fire Guardian's emblem on it, and the curious dragons decided to open it up. Inside, they found several scrolls, a pair of wedding bands, and a small toy doll.

Looking over the secret scrolls, and wondering why Ignitus would hide anything from them, the Guardians came to a startling conclusion: Ignitus had, in secret, been mated and had a child. This went against many of the laws that governed the Guardians, in order to keep them from having other duties besides teaching.

Looking through the other scrolls, they discovered to their great surprise that Ignitus' child was none other than the pink and red dragoness with them: Ember Firethroat.

The Guardians told her the news later that night. Her reaction was mixed: she was both furious with Ignitus for not telling her who she was before he died, and at the same time she was sad that she never got to really know her father.

"I just wish he would've told me, instead of expecting me to find out by myself," she whispered. Flame heard her, and nuzzled her cheek lovingly.

"Hey, are you guys forgetting about me? If I remember correctly, that old fire guy made me swear I would watch this big purple lump!" Sparx laughed, zooming in front of Spyro's face and grabbing a patch of scales.

"Ignitus may have given you advice and orders, Sparx, but he was never really a father to you," Flame angrily told the dragonfly. Joking about someone's deceased relative was not cool in his book, especially if it was about Ember.

Sparx turned to the fire drake and opened his mouth to retort, but couldn't come up with anything that wouldn't make the dragons feel worse. His antennae drooped slightly, and his gaze shifted down to the ground, now slightly ashamed of what he said.

"There's no need to be so hostile Flame. Sparx is just trying to lighten the mood a little bit," Cynder defended Sparx. The dragoness turned to the insect, who looked slightly happier now.

"However, Sparx, this isn't really the proper time to be making jokes. This is supposed to be a serious day," she explained, earning a nod from the dragonfly. Sparx hovered onto Spyro's head and laid back on the purple scales, careful not to cut himself on Spyro's fins.

"Ignitus wouldn't want you to dwell on his demise for too long, Spyro," Hunter advised, staring into Spyro's amethyst eyes. "He wanted you to be ready to face the future and whatever it held."

Spyro nodded at the cheetah's words, and turned back to the box.

The purple dragon stroked the case a couple more times before placing it back on the ground. He looked around the plaza, noting how the last couple people were filing into the remaining seats. Flame and Ember went back to whispering to each other, and Cynder stretched in her seat as she waited for the Guardians to start.

As Spyro continued to look around at the large crowd, he frowned when he noticed how Toothless' ear flaps were pinned against his bowed head. Starlight, his girlfriend, embraced the depressed Night Fury.

"Hey Toothless?" Spyro leaned forward to get a glimpse of Toothless' face. The Night Fury turned to him, revealing a pair of sad green eyes. They were slightly bloodshot, and Spyro could see the shimmering trails of tears on his muzzle.

In all the years Spyro had known Toothless, he had never once seen the black dragon cry.

"You okay?" he asked. Toothless shrugged, and turned to face the ground.

"I guess. I'm just doing my best to remember them, that's all," Toothless wiped away his tears with his jacket sleeve. Spyro narrowed his eyes at Toothless' words.

"Remember who?" he asked curiously.

"My colony. Mom, and dad. Everyone I knew before Malefor came and killed them all," the Night Fury answered angrily. Spyro could feel both rage and sadness roll off the young Night Fury in waves as his mind went back to the painful memories.

Starlight embraced the mourning dragon and kissed him on the forehead. A shudder passed through Toothless, and Spyro could see the black dragon flinching.

Spyro was about to apologize for bringing up such a sensitive subject when the blaring of a trumpet rang out across the plaza. Everywhere, people stopped what they were doing and turned their attention to the Guardians.

No one said a word, and simply watched as Terrador, the new head of the Guardians, walked forward to the podium. Volteer and Cyril stood behind him, along with the returning Guardians, all in their quadruped forms.

Technically, they could be called the "new Guardians", what with the older ones having been killed by Malefor during his first assault on Warfang. The current Guardians were mostly of the same generation, having been trained during the middle point in the war.

There was Kindle, Ignitus' cousin and the new fire Guardian. While not the absolute greatest and manipulating the element of fire, her attitude and strong determination made her a perfect fit for the role. She was a slightly lighter red than Ignitus, and had several yellow markings covering her body.

To Kindle's right was Typhonis, the water Guardian, and to her left stood Ventus, the Guardian of wind. Both of them returned to Warfang only two and a half months ago from the floating continent of Imura.

Typhonis was colored a deep blue, with small green and white scales scattered across his body. His body was sleeker and skinnier than the other male Guardians. Two long whiskers grew from either side of his muzzle, and numerous fins sprouted along his spine. His tailblade was a metal trident, which could easily pierce most forms of armor. Like many other aquatic animals, his paws were webbed, giving him a significant advantage underwater when it came to speed.

Like the sky and clouds, Ventus was primarily pale blue with random splotches of white covering his body. Unlike the other Guardians, however, he was covered in fur rather than scales. His wings were different as well, with feathers instead of a leathery membrane. Like Typhonis, the wind Guardian also had whiskers, but these were shorter and more numerous. His tailblade was shaped in the form of a bubbly cloud, and looked fluffy.

Next to Ventus was Toxicar, the poison Guardian, and Umbran, the Shadow Guardian.

Bright green scales lined Toxicar's underbelly, with green and black stripes going across her back. Smooth spikes jutted out of her shoulders and spine. Her claws were tipped with acid. Her bony tailblade was thin and jagged, and could ooze out acid or poison if needed.

Umbran was as dark as the night, and could be even more terrifying than it at times. Black smoke followed her wherever she went, and she could very easily cloak herself in it. Her yellows were slitted like a cat's, and seemed to glow against her black body. Her four horns were a solid white, greatly contrasting with the rest of her body. She had a thin, delicate tailblade that was designed for piercing and slashing.

To the right of Typhonis stood Terroic, the Guardian of Darkness, Lumar, the Guardian of Light, and finally Timora, the Guardian of Fear. All three of the the dragons had some form of dark coloration on them.

Terroric was entirely black aside from a few small splotches of white along his back. Spikes, large and small, jutted from various places on his body. His eyes were a fearsome red, and his gaze could unnerve anyone. At the edge of his tail was more or less a razor sharp scythe.

Lumar had primarily white scales, but a couple black spots dotted her chest. Her wings were a mix of feathers and leathery membrane. The six facial spikes on her face curled away from the rest of her body. She had a segmented, spear like tailspade, similar to to Spyro's.

Timora had black scales with a red-tinge to them. Weird designs covered her body, and there were multiple scars on her from when she was captured by apes. People who looked at her got an unsettling feeling in their body, as if there was something off about her. There were tears in her wings as well, and she had no tailblade except for several sharp spikes running down the length of her tail.

A necklace with the symbol of their element hung from the necks of each of the Guardians. They wore capes as well, which matched the color of their scales and had their elemental symbol sewn onto the back.

There were supposed to have been two more Guardians up there on stage, but they had been missing since the third battle of Warfang.

There were several other figures with the Guardians on the stage, standing quietly next

to the Guardians. Figures such as Blizzara, the Queen of the Magic crafters, Inioth, King of the Dream weavers, Infernin and Gale, the King and Queen of the Artisans, and the entire Warfang Council.

Even Paarthurnax, the master of the Thu'um and one of the few Dovah left in the world, was there to pay his respects as well. It was rumored that he would be remaining in Warfang as both a gesture of good faith from the Dovah and to create a new position within the Guardians.

Paarthurnax was an old dragon, and one of the few remaining dragons who had been alive before Malefor had been born. His age was beginning to show now, with chipped horns and spikes and tears in his wings. His once bright gray and white scales had considerably dulled.

Though dragons were supposed to be immortal, there was nothing that could stop them from physically aging.

The enormous crowd, reaching all the way to the current outer city, was silent as Terrador stood at the podium. They were watching the large, magical screens in the sky, which were trained on the large earth dragon.

The large earth Guardian took a deep breath before he started speaking.

"For us, the storm has passed. The war that has claimed millions of lives is finally over. Peace can at last return our world. But, let us never forget those who died valiantly in the fight against Malefor, in the belief that they were making Aslore a better place. They died, so that we could live. We must respect that."

Terrador looked around at those assembled in the plaza, seeing hundreds of pairs of eyes trained in him. The audience was listening closely to every word he said, as his speech would like be written into the history books.

"No one could see the war coming. No one knew that Malefor would turn from a good-natured and respected dragon to the very embodiment of evil and terror. We must learn from the past, so that we may never have to go through such a war ever again."

For a brief moment, Spyro saw Terrador's eyes make contact with his. He got an uneasy feeling about slight gesture, as if there was something the Guardians hadn't told him. And though Terrador's words were not directed at him, Spyro knew that some people were likely imagining him turn against the world.

Subconsciously, his hand reached for Cynder's delicate one, needing a safety net to hold onto. Cynder felt it, and held onto her love's hand, letting him squeeze hers as much as he wanted.

"Many of those who died will forever be known but to the Gods, their identites long forgotten: the Angel of Vrnyn and the Hero of Lropei, for example. We may never know who they, but we know of their heroic deeds."

"And others, we knew very well: fathers, mothers, children, siblings, and even Guardians. All of us have lost someone in this war."

Spyro leaned his head on Cynder's shoulder2. Though he tried to hide it, the dragoness could feel him crying. The speech was probably bringing back memories of Ignitus to the purple dragon.

"It is with a heavy heart that we say goodbye to our friend, mentor, and fellow Guardian, Ignitus. He gave his life so that Spyro and Cynder could reach Malefor and kill him, ending the war for good. Without him, our world would have been destroyed by the fallen dragon."

"Warfang, and the rest of Aslore, will continue to rebuild for years to come. We must all play a part in the reconstruction of our home. And so, for the next generation of children, we dedicate this Academy to Ignitus and those who were killed in the war. Their sacrifice ennobled us all… and they shall not be forgotten."

There was a brief period of silence before the air roared with thunderous applause as the mile-thick crowd cheered. Those sitting in the benches stood up and clapped at the earth Guardians words. Everyone who was listening either whistled, cried, laughed, yelled, jumped with joy, or a combination of the above.

The cheering continued as Terrador walked off the stage and rejoined his fellow Guardians, who stood silent amongst the cheering. The earth dragon nodded to a wolf and horse standing on either side of the hidden statue. They nodded back, and pulled on the black cloth.

People in the audience gasped as they saw the statue, while others continued to cheer. For those on the floating platforms, the screens zoomed in on the statue to give everyone a better look.

The statue was of Ignitus, intricately carved into granite taken from the ruins of Warfang. The fire dragon's head was held high, as if he was looking into the audience, and his wings were slightly splayed out. A necklace with the symbol of fire hung from the neck, and he was covered in his battle armor.

Glowing red gems were placed where the eyes would be, and parts of the granite seemed to glow in the sunlight. In front of the statues paws a flame ignited and flickered back and forth.

It's beautiful, Spyro thought. The detail on the statue was exquisite. Every line had a meaning to it, nothing was out of place. It looked as if Ignitus had simply sat down on the base and was covered in rock.

Engraved onto the base were the words "Even in the darkest of times, there is always hope." They were words Ignitus would say to Spyro and anyone else who thought that losing the war was inevitable.

Spyro noted that it looked much like the statue of Malefor in the old Swamp Temple. That statue had been removed and dismantled, as Warfang didn't want anything that represented Malefor as good.

After that, various Guardians and foreign rulers came up to the podium and started speaking about the war and Ignitus. Spyro didn't pay much attention to them and what they said. He became lost in his own little world, thinking about Ignitus and how life was going to be without him.

Cynder noticed Spyro's eyes glazing over, obviously doing his best to tune out the other speeches. She couldn't blame him; a lot of what was being said was how "everyone needs to pitch in" and "rebuilding will take a long time" and "never forget the fallen".

She could admit that it did get slightly boring after a while, but nevertheless she listened to what everyone had to say. At least, part of her listened. The other part of her mind began imagining what the future was going to be like.

The speeches eventually came to an end, finishing with the head of the Warfang council, Infernus, thanking everyone for coming.

"Thank you all for coming out today. It means a lot to us that so many of you turned up for Warfang's memorial day. Warfang and the rest of the world will need your support in the coming years as reconstruction takes place. I hope you all have a good day. May the Ancestors look after us all."

With that the council member walked off stage, bowed at the statue, and began walking back to the council chambers. The other councilors followed suit, along with several Guardians and foreign dignitaries.

As people began filing out of their seats to go home, Flame turned to look at Spyro, a grin on his face. Spyro frowned inside at the smile. Did he forget everything he had said to Sparx? It's a bit early to be so happy.

"Hey Spy, wanna go get some ice cream with us? Apparently there's this brand new parlor over on Amber street, and it's supposedly really good," the ruby red dragon suggested.

Spyro hesitated for a second, slightly surprised Flame wanted to leave this early.

"Sure, but there's something I want to do first. You guys go on ahead, and I'll meet you there," Spyro replied, trying to smile. Unfortunately, his friends were much more perceptive than that, and could see the sadness in his eyes.

Flame's grin slowly turned into a frown. Did he make a mistake with suggesting ice cream to Spyro?

"Spyro, if there's something wrong, you should talk to us about it," Flame said. "I didn't mean to make you feel bad."

Spyro opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off as he noticed a large form coming towards him in his peripheral vision. He turned his head to see Kindle standing in front of the group.

"Greetings, young ones. My name is Kindle. I'm the new fire Guardian," the orange fire dragoness introduced herself. The group bowed to her.

"It's an honor to meet you," Spyro said, a tear dripping down his cheek. It really was. Out of all the choices for the next fire Guardian, Kindle was found to be the best. Kindle smiled at the purple dragon below her.

"I believe you have something important. Something that used to belong to my cousin," she stated, earning a teary nod from Spyro. The purple dragon picked up the red and yellow box sitting next to him and lifted the lid.

His friends peered into the box, and gasped at what they saw. Inside, dented and scarred from numerous battles, rested Ignitus' old battle helm. It was a relic of the war, and perhaps the last physical piece Spyro still had of Ignitus.

The golden helmet had been cleaned and polished just for the occasion. The Guardian symbol of fire was engraved onto the forehead, and painted in a deep red. It looked menacing and regal at the same time; the idea behind the Guardians.

"Go ahead and place it at the base of the statue," Kindle told instructed Spyro. "Put Ignitus' soul to rest."

Spyro picked the old helmet out of the box, staring at the intricate patterns and lines carved into it. He walked over to the base of the statue, tears in his eyes, and gently laid the war helm on the ground.

The purple dragon kneeled there for a couple seconds. He didn't know how, but he could feel the presence of Ignitus in the statue. It was as if he could feel the gentle hand of Ignitus on his back, but when he turned around it was just Cynder.

Turning back, he bowed his head at the statue, whispering "I'll miss you" under his breath. He reached out and stroked the helmet one last time, before standing and embracing Cynder.

In the comfort of Cynder's arms, Spyro let his tears flow, staining Cynder's dress. He began sobbing uncontrollably, as Cynder stroked his back. Her own tears trickled down her face, and came to rest on Spyro's suit.

Their friends watched the two for a couple seconds before Kindle turned to them. She told the dragons and dragonfly to give the two dragons some space. They nodded, and set off to the ice cream parlor.

By the time they had exited the gates, Spyro's crying began slowing down. "It's okay Spyro. I'm sure that wherever he is, Ignitus is proud of what we've done."

"I miss him. I miss him so much. I can't believe he's gone."

* * *

Spyro was depressed for an entire week after the ceremony, and hid from his friends for a while. All except Cynder, who was with him the entire time to make him feel better. His other friends certainly helped when he finally came out of the temple.

Life was good for the next few weeks as the interior of the Academy was furnished. Seats, magic boards, tables, plumbing, water, and kitchens had to be added. When it was done, the Guardians moved the Temple into the center of the campus, where a wide space had been cleared just for the old building.

Warfang had chosen 204 adults of various races in Warfang to work as teachers at the Academy. The Guardians mostly worked with dragons, but there were a few other species in their classes.

Spyro and Cynder were excited to join the Academy, but of course life had to throw something in their way. The council had decided that Spyro and Cynder would be good representatives of Warfang, and decided that they should go to other continents to learn more about other cultures and different elements.

Reluctantly, the two dragons agreed. They would be away from their friends for long periods of time, as flying across continents took a long time. However, they decided that it would be good in the interest of bettering relations with the other kingdoms, and could learn other forms of magic, and elemental manipulation.

Before they could start, however, the Guardians wanted to test Spyro and Cynder and see just how good they were with their elements. They wanted to see what the two already knew, and what more they needed to work on. So, in front of an audience composed of their friends, the Guardians, and several powerful mages, Spyro and Cynder sparred.

It was a very confusing and scary moment when both Spyro and Cynder discovered that there were powers locked away inside them, powers that they never knew they had.

During the course of the match, Spyro had somehow let loose a convexity beam, which then sparked Cynder to start blasting light out of her body. The Guardians felt a tug on their souls from Cynder's powers, and had watched in terror as elements of every type began flying from Spyro's body.

Some of them moved in slow motion, while others streaked across the room like lighting. When some of the elements hit the ground, various forms of plant life had begun to grow before quickly decaying and dying.

It took the power of all 12 Guardians to calm down and stop the two dragons from destroying the Academy by accident. The power they unleashed sent them into unconsciousness for the couple of days, and questions quickly rose.

How many powers did they use? Where did they come from? Why was there no sign that Spyro and Cynder could be this powerful? Why was there nothing in any textbook about purple dragons using every element in the world?

It took a while, but the Guardians eventually came up with a hypothesis of why both dragons began using powers they never learned. When Spyro used the convexity element, it unlocked a part of his soul that controlled the elements he used and could use. This unlock affected Cynder as well, which was why she suddenly started using powers the Guardians hadn't seen in centuries.

They found that Spyro had somehow unlocked the ability to manipulate elements that were previously thought exclusive to their respective dragon types: water, wind, wear, shadow, poison, darkness, soul, time, light, fury, convexity, life, and death.

Cynder had also gained several elements as well, including light, soul, fury, and death. It was unknown as to how she gained such a wide array, as her kind were believed to be limited to just darkness.

After much debate, the Guardians decided that Spyro and Cynder needed one-on-one lessons with each of them to further develop their growing powers. Cynder had to learn about her light and dark powers, while Spyro had to be trained in the usage of every element on the planet.

Mix that in with travels to other continents, acting as representatives of Warfang, taking other advanced classes, and learning about the different kingdoms of the world left both Spyro and Cynder exhausted. However, they eventually graduated with honors, and their love for each other stayed intact over the years.

Cynder wolfed down the rest of her meal, making sure to eat a few fruits as well. Dragons were omnivores, after all. She put the plate away in the dishwasher when finished, and began walking back to her room.

After she and Spyro graduated, Warfang gifted them with a brand new house in the Academy district. They also gave houses to Flame and Ember, as well as Toothless and Starlight. It was the city's way of saying "thank you" to the dragons who did so much to end the war.

Cynder still remembered that day 15 years ago, when she, Spyro, and their friends stood upon the platform outside, waiting to receive their Academy diplomas. It had been incredibly exciting, seeing the thousands gathered for this occasion.

While up at the stand to give a speech to the audience, Cynder had thought about everything she had accomplished in her life. She had gained so much in those ten years at the Academy: friends, an education, appreciation from her peers, even a drakefriend.

And on that day, it wasn't just a diploma she gained.

* * *

Exard 1st, Season of Fire, Year 9, 77th age

Academy District, Warfang, Avalar, Aslore

3:27 PM

"Cynder!" Spyro yelled over the din of the music. Only five minutes into the party and he already lost sight of his girlfriend amongst the giant crowd. The parties the purple dragon had been to had always been large, but this one took the cake.

Hundreds of dragons, canines, felines, ursines, equines, primates, avians, and even a couple cetaceans were there to celebrate. They were the first class to graduate from the new Academy, and were finally ready to go out into the world.

Spyro never felt fully comfortable in such large crowds, and he really didn't want to have to go into this one. If it meant finding Cynder, however, then he didn't really have much of a choice.

Flame and Ember weren't at the party, and Spyro know exactly why. In fact, it was the same reason why he needed to find Cynder and leave the Academy.

The purple dragon did his best to get through the mass of people, dodging and weaving between graduates who were busy drinking and dancing. There were small groups of people talking and laughing in the corners of the lounge, but Spyro didn't see Cynder in any of them.

He found his dragoness after a couple minutes of searching the back of the lounge, where more people were either dancing or playing games on the magical vision screen mounted on the wall.

Cynder was dancing with a couple of people that Spyro didn't know, but it didn't seem like they were going to harm her. They were probably some classmates he didn't know.

He made his way over to his girlfriend, doing his best not to accidentally whack someone with his wings. Pushing past a tipsy gryphon, Spyro stepped in front of Cynder.

Immediately, her friends, a wolf, a horse, and a large bear turned to him, noticing his presence. Cynder turned to what they were looking at and saw her drakefriend standing there.

"Hey Spy, Come dance with me!" Cynder told him, obviously excited by the party. She grinned at the purple dragon.

"There's something really cool I want to show you!" he said to her, having to raise his voice so she could hear him. He didn't want to stay much longer; he was already starting to feel uncomfortable.

"Can't it wait? I'm having a lot of fun here!" she said, grinning from ear to ear. She grabbed his shoulders and tried to get him to dance with her, but he shied away.

"Yeah, but this is really, really cool! Can you just come for like five minutes? We can come back afterwards!" Spyro reasoned, sounding more and more anxious.

Cynder finally noticed how uncomfortable Spyro looked, and decided that she should go with him. Spyro never felt comfortable at parties, so he was probably dying inside right then.

Cynder turned to her dancing friends, who nodded to her.

"Alrighty then, lead the way babe," Cynder told him.

She swore that she had never seen Spyro smile so wide. He turned and they both walked through the crowd.

The pair left the building, still wearing their graduation gowns, and Spyro directed her down the cobblestone path that led to the Academy. Taking a right, they entered a park filled with luscious, rolling fields of grass and trees.

"Why are leaving the Academy, Spyro? Come on, you'll have fun at this party!" she edged him on. The purple dragon shook his head.

"Sorry Cynder, but this is much more important," Spyro said. He scratched his chin, irritated by the horns underneath his chin.

"Did you want to bring me here?" Cynder asked, stopping and looking at the wonderful view. One could see the entirety of Warfang from her spot, and the land that lay beyone it.

"No, actually. We still have to walk a little farther," Spyro told her, still walking. Cynder hurried to catch up to him.

The pair continued to walk for another 15 minutes, Spyro leading Cynder through various streets and alleyways. They talked about whatever came to mind as they strolled through the Academy district.

As they walked, Cynder didn't see another being on any of the streets. When she asked Spyro about it, he told her they were probably all still at the Academy.

"How much longer do we have to go?" Cynder asked her boyfriend.

"It's just around this corner," Spyro replied.

Turning the corner in question, Cynder's eyes were immediately drawn to a two story house at the end of the lane. She could practically feel the magic seeping off to it, and found it to be one of the coolest houses she had ever seen in Warfang.

Spyro walked down to the front of the house and turned to Cynder. The black dragoness looked back and forth between Spyro and house, confused at what it was.

"What is this?" she asked.

"A house, Cynder. Our house," Spyro clarified. Cynder's eyes widened. She walked to her drakefriend, her eyes staying locked on the house.

"Ou-our house?" she repeated.

"Yes. Just for you and me."

"Spyro, this is…" Cynder trailed off before crying out in joy and leaping at Spyro. She gave the purple dragon a big hug, squeezing him tightly around the chest and messing up his gown.

The two dragons kissed. Cynder could feel Spyro's heart rapidly beating against his chest. They stayed entwined like this for several seconds. Her own heart fluttered at the thought that she and Spyro had a house! She had been worried that they wouldn't have a place to live after graduation.

Spyro was the first to break the kiss, smiling widely. His gaze shifted to the house.

"Warfang built this for us. It's one of the ways they wanted to thank us for all our hard work," Spyro explained.

"It's wonderful," Cynder breathed. She reached out and touched the old, golden stone that made up the the house- her new house.

Cynder turned around and embraced her drakefriend, giving him a kiss on his purple cheek. The growing horns there tickled her face.

"Thank you so much Spyro," she told him. Spyro smiled, but his face quickly took on a serious look.

Cynder was confused at the sudden change in his body language.

"There's another reason I brought you here," spoke the purple drake, and took a small step back from her. Cynder faintly heard footsteps, and tore her gaze off Spyro.

Looking around, she saw all of her friends, fellow students, the Guardians, teachers of Warfang, and hundreds of other people of all races walk down the road. The massive crowd quickly surrounded her and Spyro.

"What is this?" she asked, staring widely at the purple dragon. The presence of so many people and the feeling of them looking at her caused her to get slightly anxious.

"There's one more thing I need to ask you Cynder," Spyro told her.

He reached behind his back into a pocket in his graduation gown. He pulled out a tiny box, and held it in front of her.

The box was made of some black material, with purple and gold swirls painted on it. the symbol on Cynder's forehead was engraved into the box, and Cynder's eyes widened as she recognized what it was.

Spyro took a knee on the hard cobblestone, and opened the box. A ring sat inside, n

"Cynder, will you be my mate?"

All thought stopped in Cynder's head as Spyro asked her those words. Her hands shot up to her muzzle as she saw the ring inside the box.

With a trembling hand she reached out and touched the ring. The band was pressed gold, with a black scale - one of mine, she noticed - sticking out of a perfectly cut emerald - the color of her eyes

Hot tears appeared in Cynder's eyes as her emotions pranced about like a Night Fury on Dragon Nip. Spyro wanted to be her mate! After all these years, he was ready to take their relationship to the next level.

Cynder stared into Spyro's eyes, and found that Spyro was just as excited about this as he was. That was the only confirmation she needed.

"Yes," was her simple reply. Spyro grinned, and slipped the purple and gold ring onto her finger. Standing up, the dragons embraced in a kiss as the crowd erupted into tremendous applause.

"I love you," Spyro said to his new fiancè.

"I love you too, Spyro. Thank you for everything you've done for me."

Cynder had a house, a diploma, and finally, a finacè.

* * *

It was no gigantic surprise to anyone that the two of them would be mated. Saving the world together drew them incredibly close, and both of them felt as if they couldn't live without the other. Dating for nine years certainly helped as well.

She went back upstairs to the colorful bedroom and entered the bathroom, deciding that a nice, warm shower was in order.

When Aslorians of any race morphed between their anthro and feral forms, their heights could change dramatically. This was the most evident with dragons and other winged species. In their quadruped forms, dragons were usually around fifteen to twenty feet tall, but were only eight feet tall at the highest as a biped.

Because of this, houses all across Aslore had magical spells cast on them that detected what form the inhabitants inside took, and adjusted the sizes of rooms, furniture, utensils, and everything else on the interior accordingly.

Cynder gazed at her reflection in the mirror, mentally comparing herself to what she looked like 30 years ago.

The dragoness had grown considerably over the years; she used to be a mere four feet tall in her quadruped form 30 years ago. Now, she reached her full height of 17 feet tall. Her torso and abdomen had become curvaceous, sleek and streamlined. Like all dragonesses, her neck and tail grew longer and thinner.

A fourth set of horns had grown in right behind her jaw, and the white spikes adorning her head became pointier and longer over the years. Three additional spines ran down the back of her neck, stopping where her neck and torso met.

Her elbow spikes had grown in as well. The curved blade-like protrusions were at times a hassle to work with, but could be useful in a pinch.

All-in-all, the ebony dragoness looked quite similar to the corrupted form Malefor's magics cursed her with all those years ago. The biggest difference was that her wing membrane now spanned from the tip of her wings to halfway between her wing joint and hind leg. Her muscles were bigger as well, and the symbols on her body had changed.

Done inspecting her body, the ebony dragoness shifted to her bipedal form and stepped into the golden-tiled shower, the room scaling down to her size. She tossed her nightgown onto the ground, where it was picked up by a small closed the glass door, and turned on the hot water.

Hot water came pouring out of the shower head, soaking her scales and relaxing her muscles. She stretched out her wings, allowing the water to collect on the membrane before sliding onto the tile beneath her feet.

Pouring some body soap onto her paws, she lathered her body in the viscous liquid, making sure to get near the base of her horns, spines, and in between her scales. Foam formed on her body as the soap reacted with the water, before being rinsed off by the rushing water.

She applied a polishing agent to her body, which, when touched by water, made her scales sparkle and glisten in the light. Ten minutes later, the dragoness stepped out of the shower, her scales shining and pristine. Any onlooker would think that her scales were actually made of obsidian.

After drying herself off, Cynder pulled out a drawer from the cabinet below. Inside was her jewelry, all polished and clean for the day. The various pieces fit snugly into the holes designed for each part, and were laid out in an organized manner.

Aside from freeing her from Malefor, the very first gift Spyro gave her was a new set of jewelry to replace the old and dirty iron shackles Malefor had placed on her. Since then, he had bought better and better jewelry sets just for her. Each new set seemed more beautiful than the last.

The current set included a necklace, two bracers for her forearms, and three bracers that ran down her tail. Each piece was specially handcrafted by both Toothless and one of his magic craft friends. The pieces were carved from a mix of platinum, silver, and gold, with magical runes and lines running up and down the sides.

She donned her Guardian attire: a purple, black, and white cloak with golden trimmings. She placed the large Guardian necklace around her neck; the three amulets spread along the chain indicating what elements she was Guardian of.

Cynder was ranked Master Guardian in the elements of death, soul, and fury. She didn't have a Guardian to teach her, so she had to teach herself. It scared some of the Guardians of how quickly she figured out how to use her elements.

Many of the returning Guardians were wary of Cynder, due to the fact that she was a Kuros: an ancient race of dragons that specialised in the arts of dark magic and elemental abilities. They hadn't been seen in thousands of years, and many believed that the species had died out.

There had been one who lived in Warfang several hundred years ago, but she had mysteriously vanished after a massive battle with Malefor.

Cynder knew of the evil reputation of the Kuros, and, with the help of Spyro, was able to convince the other Guardians and the city she was not about to enslave them. Instead, he promised to research more into the reclusive species of dragon, as a sign of good faith.

Following the discovery that Cynder was a Kuro, the Guardians soon discovered another aspect of Cynder: she could manipulate light. Though they had originally seen her do this in the sparring match, they hadn't thought much of it until she did it again.

The ability to manipulate light and darkness meant one thing: Cynder was an Animar, or soul dragon: one of the rarest and strongest types of dragon on Aslore. Rivaled only by the Celestials, Adalisks, Tempusians, and purple dragons in terms of sheer power, soul dragons were often called 'Soul Eaters" because of what they did to their enemies.

Soul dragons were only born when their parents had light and dark powers or were soul eaters themselves, which explained why Cynder could manipulate light.

However, using her light powers caused a drastic change to her body: her scales, aside from the ones on her stomach, would turn entirely white. Only the light Guardian had ever seen anything like it, saying that the change of her body coincided with a change in her soul.

This also wasn't seen during the sparring match, which the Guardians believed was because she had never used them before.

Done preparing herself for the day, Cynder walked downstairs to the living room to turn off the lights in the house. Checking the clock above the fireplace, she found that there was a little under an hour and a half before she had to teach at the Academy.

Seeing that there was plenty of time before teaching, the ebony dragoness decided to take the scenic route to the Academy. It would take her right through the Holirto marketplace, which was one of her favorite places in the district. From there she could walk through the Academy park, which would lead her directly to the Academy.

Cynder looked around the living room for anything else to clean, but everything seemed tidied up. She walked over to the entryway, picking up her bag filled with lessons and plans along with the key to the house.

She opened the front door of her house, letting in a brisk wind that felt good against her body. Stepping outside, she took a deep whiff of the mid-year wind and closed the door behind her, sighing in content. After locking the door, she set off towards the Temple3.

It was a beautiful morning. The blazing yellow sun sat high in the bright blue sky, and few clouds could be seen. Several trees swayed in the light wind that ran across the inner city, and Cynder could see flying carriages, dragons, avians, and other creatures flying across the sky.

Cynder walked down the cobblestone, smiling at the young children playing with balls and rope in the road. A couple feline and avian passerby said good morning to her, many of them with bags full of groceries and supplies for the week. Some of them had their children walking alongside, and others had them strapped to backpacks.

Birds tweeted as the dragoness turned onto a large, yellow brick that would lead her to the market. Trisingr avenue was one of the busiest roads of the inner city, with numerous powered carriages and people using it to go to-and-fro through the entire inner city.

Cynder padded down the road, and many citizens bowed or warmly greeted the Master Guardian. She either nodded at them or returned their reply, happy that people were so nice to her.

Every once in a while she would have to step out of the way of an oncoming powered carriage, the large four-wheeled vehicle humming as powerful magics and technology moved it. It was amazing to Cynder to see these new forms of travel being utilized so frequently amongst the city.

Ten minutes of walking down Trisingr eventually led her to the entrance of the market. Already she could hear the sounds of vendors and customers going about their day in the large open area.

She walked across the road, quickly moving out of the way of another carriage, and walked up the steps that led into the market.

As she entered the marketplace, she was assaulted by various sights, smells, and sounds of any market. The scent of meat, vegetables, people, and animals filled the area, along with the sounds of vendors calling out their prices and wares.

She watched as hundreds of people walked to the numerous open shops and stalls, filled with everything anyone could want: food, gems, jewelry, weapons, armor, books, new bits of technology, magical items, and all sorts of random trinkets and items.

The Guardian began walking through

"Good morning, Cynder," greeted Parnaser her. She was one of many moles who sold fine trinkets and jewelry in the marketplace. Cynder replied with a "good morning" and nodded in her direction.

Parnaser smiled back, before turning to welcome a customer. Cynder continued forward, looking around at the numerous stalls and shops in the market. Vendors called out prices and showed off their wares, and the sounds of feral animals waiting to be sold or killed only added to the cacophony.

There was something about markets that she liked, finding them fascinating and fun to watch. Cynder guessed it was because she liked seeing people of all races go about their business and buy whatever they needed for the day. She could also go and buy anything that she and her mate needed, such as gems, scrolls, books, food, writing utensils, and more.

The ebony dragoness made sure to stop and pick up some red and green spirit gems from a Warfang-sponsored vendor. She and Spyro were running a little low at home, and because prices had lowered she was able to get a good deal on them.

She thanked the vendor, a brown female horse, and began to walk off when someone called out her name.

"Cynder! Fancy seeing you here!" came a high-pitched voice to the dragonesses left. She turned, and came face to face with a bipedal, blue-eyed female Night Fury. She was dressed casually, wearing a blue shirt and dress that reached her knees.

All-in-all, she looked like a smaller, skinnier, blue-eyed version of Toothless. A Night Fury toddler held onto her right hand, while her left held a bag of groceries and supplies.

"Good morning, Starlight," Cynder smiled at the other dragoness. This was Toothless' mate and their youngest child, Briam.

"How are you doing today?" Cynder asked the mother

"Oh, I'm doing well. Just getting groceries for the week, and getting Briam here out of the house," the Night Fury looked down at her daughter, who was hiding behind her mother's legs.

"It's okay, Briam. Auntie Cynder is a good friend of ours," Starlight told her daughter. The young Night Fury peeked out behind Starlight's legs, carefully eyeing Cynder.

The Guardian slowly knelt down to Briam's level, her long robe settling down on the brown cobblestone.

"Hello young one. My name is Cynder. What's yours?" she asked the shy Night Fury.

"B-Bweum," replied the girl. Cynder could tell the Night Fury child was enticed by her long horns, robe, and necklace.

"That's a wonderful name! How old are you?" Cynder asked, already knowing the answer.

"I'm fwee!" Briam giggled. She reached out to touch Cynder's necklace, entranced by the symbols carved onto the material. Cynder giggled at Briam.

"Wat aw dese?" the child asked.

"These are the elements that I am Guardian of," Cynder gave a simple reply.

"Wat aw Gawdians?" Briam continued to ask questions. Just like all young ones, Cynder thought.

She and Spyro had talked about having children, and came to the conclusion that they both still needed time before taking on such a responsibility. Fortunately, dragons had a ten thousand year lifespan, so she and her mate had a long time to decide on hatchlings.

Cynder quickly turned her thoughts back to answering the question Briam posed. "Guardians are dragons who have mastered an element and then teach others how to use it," Cynder explained.

Briam nodded and yawned, tired from the long day at the market.

"Looks like somebody's tired," Starlight said. "Are you ready to go home Briam?"

The young Night Fury nodded. Starlight smiled, and turned back to Cynder.

"Well, it was nice meeting you here Cynder. I guess I'll see you again at the party this weekend?" Starlight asked the Guardian, receiving a nod from the other dragoness.

"I'll see you there. Have a nice day you too!" she told the two Night Furies. They smiled at her, before walking off.

"You too!" said Starlight. Briam waved goodbye to the tall Guardian. Cynder waved back, and continued on through the market.

She passed by the meat vendors, and enticed by the smell, walked on over to the stalla. As she walked over, the various vendors noticed the Guardian, and began calling out their lowest priced and best deals in an attempt to get her to buy their wares.

She eventually singled out a good stall, which had some delicious slices of pig, cow, and deer.

"Hello, Guardian. What would you like today?" the vendor, a white male wolf, asked her.

"What sort of cuts of beef do you have?" Cynder asked him, eyeing the salted slabs of meat hanging on hooks.

"I've got some delicious slices of rib and sirloin from purely grass-fed cows. I do the cuts myself, and put my own special salt and herbs in there to keep it flavored," he told her.

"That sounds delicious. How late are you open today?" she asked.

"I'm open murnsday through firesday from sunup till sundown, my lady," the wolf replied.

"I would like to buy two large cuts of sirloin and three cuts of rib. Would it be okay if I came to pick it up later in the afternoon? I can pay for it now, of course," she told the vendor. The white wolf smiled at her.

"Sure. That'll be thirty-three gold."

Cynder fished the gold out from her bag and handed it to the vendor. He took it and immediately began wrapping the cuts up in some paper.

"I'll save this for you when you come get it, my lady," the wolf tipped his hat to her.

"Thank you so much. And please, just call me Cynder," the black dragoness smiled.

"Will do."

Cynder turned and walked off, heading to the entrance of the Academy park. The sounds of the market soon faded, and Cynder was left with peace and quiet.

As she entered the park, her mind began to wander again, and she found herself thinking about the events that led up to now: she and Spyro heading to the different continents to learn more about those who lived there, Toothless building his crazy inventions, the Guardians returning to Warfang, being mated to Spyro, becoming Guardians, and all sorts of other fun adventures she had had with her friends.

The grass of the park felt good beneath her feet, and the warmth of the sun on her black scales felt great. The light energized her, making her feel ready for a day of classes. Perks of being able to manipulate light, she mused.

Cynder became lost in her thoughts again as she strolled through the park, stopping every once in a while to view the landscape below her. She stopped at a spot Spyro had taken her to the day after they were mated.

It was an area with a single spirit tree sitting amongst the grass and flowers. It had beautiful purple and black flowers blooming from its multiple branches, which opened up in the daytime. Sitting underneath it, one could see across the entire expanse of Warfang, even to where the outer city and outskirts met.

She stopped there for a few minutes to enjoy the view. It was breathtaking, seeing the tiny black specks that were people in the distance. She inhaled deeply, loving the smell of the grass and flowers.

She spent another ten minutes under the tree before continuing onto the Academy. 15 minutes later, she reached the main gates of the large complex.

A pair of young felines darted past her as she entered the grounds of the Academy4, laughing and chasing each other around the area. The two stopped and bowed when they spotted her, realizing that there was a Guardian there.

She nodded at the two, and they bounded off, giggling and smiling.

"Cynder, there you are!" came a familiar, baritone voice.

The dragoness smiled as she saw her purple mate walk out of the front of the building. The two felines, who had run around the statue of Ignitus, bowed at his presence. He nodded at them, and the feline siblings were off again.

The two dragons stepped up to each other and hugged each other, kissing each other briefly on the lips. As they stepped back, Cynder looked over her mate's form.

The amethyst dragon standing in front of her looked so different from his goofy, small self 30 years ago.

First off, he was taller. Much taller. The drake had grown an impressive eleven feet in his feral form, and was now almost 19 feet tall. His muscles had grown considerable over the years, and Spyro had become quite bulky.

Two pairs of golden horns had grown in behind his jaw, along with a set of fins as well underneath them. A trio of spikes sat underneath his chin, with some fin membrane connecting each of them. A purple spike sat at the very end of his muzzle, a trait shared by all male dragons.

His wings were gigantic, and his wing-spikes had finally grown into proper thumbs.

A mix of hardened, gold scales and red and yellow fins covered each shoulder. The purple scales covering his body were stronger and hardier, and could easily stop and deflect steel blades. Two small bright yellow spikes grew from the back of Spyros knees, and Spyro had to learn how to prevent injuring himself by them from Cynder.

Spyro smiled at her, "I was wondering when you'd show up. Sorry I left so early."

"It's fine, Spyro. I found your note on the table, so you don't need to explain." Cynder told her mate. Spyro smiled. Cynder was an incredibly understanding dragon, which was one of many aspects that he loved about her.

"By the way, thanks for making breakfast," Cynder thanked him.

"Oh, thanks. Did you like it?"

"It was delicious. You need to show me the recipe sometime."

"Gladly," Spyro smiled.

"Anything big going on today?" Cynder asked him.

"Well, the Court wants to talk to me. Something about 'wanting advice on weird occurrences', or some crap like that."

"Oh. Is it serious?" Cynder looked concerned.

"I don't think so, but I won't know until I get there. I had to cancel my noon classes for it. Do you think you could handle a couple extra students in your lesson today while I'm gone?"

"Yeah, that shouldn't be too much of a problem."

"And Spyro?" Cynder called out to her mate. The purple turned and hovered in mid-air, fixing his gaze on Cynder.

"If you ever have any more of those feelings, don't be afraid to wake me up and talk about, it okay?" Cynder asked, a worried look in her eyes.

Spyro smiled at his mate and nodded. Turning around, he shifted to his feral form. The purple dragon flapped his large wings and took off to the King's Court Spire.

* * *

Spyro quickly ascended through the sky, his purple robes flapping in the wind behind him. The cool air rushed by him, and the purple dragon hummed as he flew past building after building.

He quickly dove out of the way of a flying carriage, and realized that at this height he could be hit by someone not flying properly. When are the councilors going to set height limits for carriages? he wondered.

He angled his wings up and flapped hard, further increasing his distance from the ground.

He found it amazing how dense and populated the inner city had become since its construction. Tall buildings, some rising hundreds of feet into the sky, dotted the inner city, many of them important for the day-to-day life of Warfang.

Spyro stopped his ascension once he got to a height where carriages wouldn't go. From here one could almost see the entirety of the inner city, including the Academy and the Temple floating above it.

Most of the Guardians lived within the walls of the Temple, finding it the most appropriate place to live. Cyril, Kindle, Terrador, and Volteer mainly lived there, with the other Guardians living either on campus or within their own houses.

He and Cynder simply stayed in their own house, even after becoming Guardians. All of their stuff was already there, and they had gotten quite attached to their special house.

If one asked Spyro thirty years if he wanted to become a Guardian, he would've immediately said yes. Becoming a Guardian was one of the most amazing moments of his life, and was even somewhat of a challenge. He had to convince the Guardians that they needed to rewrite some of the rules before he and his mate would become one of them.

He remembered how he and Cynder were called to the Temple one day, five years after their mateship ceremony. Both of them were curious as to what the Guardians wanted from them.

* * *

Frurst 3rd, Season of Ice, Year 12, 77th age

Academy District, Warfang, Avalar, Aslore

3:27 PM

"We want you two to be Guardians," Cyril told the mated pair in front of him. Spyro and Cynder's eyes widened, and their hearts began to race in excitement. This a moment both of them had been waiting for!

"You really want us to join you?" Cynder asked, elated at the news. She and Spyro were beaming: they had been mastering their elements for years now, teaching each other tricks and methods to use both the elements and their magic.

The 11 Guardians standing around the room nodded at her.

"Wow. I'm just- wow," was all Spyro was able to make out. "What elements do you want us to be Guardian of? And why us?"

"Elements, actually," Kindle stepped forward. "We've we've been having numerous students show up with powers that only you two have. None of us can train them, and they need to know how to use their powers before they kill themselves."

Terrador smiled at the pair. "As for why we want both of you to be Guardians, well, that's pretty self-explanatory. Aside from defeating Malefor, both of you were able to master elements none of us had ever seen used before."

"Cynder, you will be the Guardian of the soul, fury, and death elements," Lumar spoke up from the back, her smooth voice carrying immense authority. "Spyro, you will be the Guardian of the convexity, life, and time elements."

Spyro and Cynder glanced at each other again, both with wide smiles on their faces. "We accept," Spyro told them Guardians.

Volteer sighed, and looked up at the pair. "There is a catch, unfortunately."

Spyro furrowed his brow. "A catch?"

Volteer hesitated, in anticipation of the negative reactions he was about to receive. "You two would have to give each other up as mates," he explained. The grins on Spyro and Cynders faces immediately fell, replaced by looks of shock and anger.

"We're not doing that," Spyro coldly replied. The Guardians flinched, not expecting such an angry reaction from the purple dragon.

"Spyro, look. The rules say-" Toxicar tried to speak.

"I don't care what the rules say! We made vows to each other! I thought all of you would know better than to try and break that!" Spyro cut off the Guardian. The Guardians eyes' widened at his anger, surprised at how something such as a mere suggestion could get him angry.

None of them knew that instincts, unused by dragons for nearly two hundred millennia, were slowly being released in Spyro. A certain possessiveness trait had been opened in Spyro's mind, and hearing that he could lose his mate had activated that trait within Spyro.

Cynder gently laid a paw on Spyros shoulder. Her touch calmed down the angry purple dragon, who took a small step back and bowed his head.

"I'm sorry that this has to happen, Spyro, but there is really no other way. We need you two to be Guardians. If you don't help us with training new dragons, then we could very well have a second Malefor on our hands," Terroric explained.

"Can you give us a second to talk outside?" Cynder asked. Terrador nodded, and the two dragons quickly walked out of the room.

"Terrador, what should we do? It's imperative that we have Spyro and Cynder be Guardians, but we can't just go against the rulebook," said Typhonis. The older water Guardians was one of the strictest and by-the-book Guardians, and did not approve when rules were broken.

The large earth dragon sighed.

"We may have to do what they want if they are to become Guardians," Terrador replied, staring up at Typhonis. "And if that means changing some rules, then so be it."

Terrador himself believed that abiding by the rules was important, but in some cases exceptions had to be made. This situation could very well be one of the them, he thought.

Spyro and Cynder re-entered the chamber a few minutes later, stoic looks present on their faces.

"Well?" asked Terroric. "What have you two decided?"

"We'll become Guardians on one condition," Cynder told them.

"And what would that be?" Umbran questioned them, black smoke falling from her body and rolling on the ground.

"If Spyro and I decide to become Guardians, we have to rewrite some of the old rules."

There were murmurs amongst the Guardians, and a few of them cried out in disbelief.

"Those rules have guided the Guardians for dozens of millennia! Do you know what both of you are suggesting?" Lumar exclaimed.

"Those rules are old and outdated! Even Ignitus, who we all thought was the perfect Guardian, went against them! They need to be updated and rewritten, especially for times such as these," Spyro argued.

"You young dragons are stepp-" Typhonis attempted to speak.

"ENOUGH!" Terrador roared. Everyone in the room went quiet and stared at the earth Guardian.

"Bickering will get us nowhere. We need to decide as a whole whether we go along with their idea," the earth dragon explained. He turned to Spyro and Cynder.

"We will need some time to think about your proposition, Spyro. Give us a little bit to discuss this privately."

Spyro and Cynder nodded. The Guardians filed out of the room, some with scowls and looks of anger on their face.

Half an hour later, they came back into the large room. Some of the Guardians still scowled, while others, such as Kindle and Ventus, looked quite happy about the decision.

"We've decided that we will grant your request. You two will become Guardians, and the laws governing us will be revised and rewritten," Terrador told the two dragons. They smiled.

"However, all of your potential revisions must be be given to us before they are even considered to be examined by-," Volteer began to ramble, only for Kindle to clamp his muzzle down with her paw.

"What Volteer's trying to say is any changes or revisions you want to make to the rulebook must be presented before us before they can be enacted," Kindle told them.

Spyro and Cynder nodded. It was a fair trade- they become Guardians and rewrite several rules, but the current Guardians would have to accept them.

"Return here in three days time so that we may begin the ceremony. In one week, you two will be Guardians," Terrador told them. He smiled, something that Spyro and Cynder had rarely seen him do.

With a polite bow, Spyro and Cynder exited the chambers and began the trip back to their home.

* * *

A week after the debate, Terrador announced that Spyro and Cynder would be joining the Guardians, and that many of the old rules governing the Guardians had been changed or removed.

Most of the rules were thrown out entirely including ones such as the idea that Guardians were not allowed to have a family, they were required to watch the eggs every 12 years, and they had to stay in Warfang.

New rules had been put in place as well. For example, all Guardians needed to have a basic understanding of how the different elements worked. They didn't have to be able wield it, but they needed to know the philosophy behind each element so they could work with more students.

New Guardians would have to be selected through a series of tests, ranging from elemental abilities to judgement and how good they are at reasoning.

Guardians were also not allowed to have children within the first 50 years of being a Guardian, so that they could mainly focus on their duties to Aslore.

Thanks to the new rules, Ember was able to tell the denizens of Warfang that Ignitus was her father. There was some outcry and astonishment that one of the most revered Guardians had broken the rules, but it quickly settled down when.

Many citizens, especially the older ones, were surprised at how easy Spyro was able to convince the Guardians to change their ways.

Life had rushed by quickly after that.

Toothless had settled down with Starlight, and they had several children together. For a while he had been an inventor, and his inventions made him very large amounts of money. He gave much of the wealth to his friends, the needy, and Warfang, and decided to help the city by signing on as the Chief Scout. Starlight found a job working for at the most prestigious magic shop and training facility in Warfang.

Flame and Ember settled down as well. Flame became the head of the Warfang Guard, which was the defensive arm of Warfang. Everyday he was usually on patrol, making sure that nothing was attempting to invade. Ember found her calling as a Healer, and was the Chief Medic of Warfang. If someone needed medical help, she was the dragon to talk to.

Spyro was elected as the Grand Master Guardian, with Cynder his second in command and Terrador his third. They both taught at the Academy in different elemental fields, and continued their roles as representatives, this time for the Guardians. Their powers continued to grow through the years, and they soon became advisors on the King's Court for their wisdom and knowledge.

Someone had once Spyro what the greatest moment in his life was. He didn't give them an answer, simply replying "they all are."

The truth was, he couldn't narrow down the greatest moment in his life to one particular instant. Instead, he had two.

The first one that came to his mind was his mating ceremony with Cynder. It was probably the largest event held in Warfang since the return of the Guardians, and undoubtedly the most joyous moment of Spyro's life.

The ceremony was being held outdoors at the Great Hall of Warfang, and tens of millions of people from all over the world came to witness the procession of the two saviors of Aslore. Dignitaries, foreign rulers, civilians, generals, they were all there to see Spyro and Cynder become an officially mated pair.

* * *

Qlist 7th, Season of Earth, Year 11, 77th age

Grand Hall, Warfang, Avalar, Aslore

10:35 AM

"Spyro, would you stop fidgeting with your tie? I've already had to fix it twice, and I'd rather not have to again," Sparx scolded the purple dragon in question. He smacked his tiny hands against Spyro's larger, scaled ones.

"Sorry, sorry. I'm just really nervous about this, Sparx," Spyro apologized. The bipedal dragon rubbed his hands nervously, his body twitchy from all the energy running through his system.

Sparx crossed his arms.

"I know, big guy. But you'll do fine. Just leave your suit alone," The dragonfly encouraged. He was Spyro and Flames best man for the ceremony. Spyro couldn't figure out for the life of him how Sparx could stay calm when something this big was going on.

"Thanks for the encouragement," Spyro told the little insect. A devious smirk spread across Sparxs face.

"Yeah, well, it's not like you have 35 million people watching you walk down the aisle to your bride to-"

"Sparx, lay off Spyro! You don't want him accidentally blowing his top off, do you?" came another voice in the dressing room. "Because I sure don't; not on my wedding day."

Flame was standing in front of a full-body mirror, checking his red and orange suit for any wrinkles. He and Ember were getting mated alongside Spyro and Cynder, the four having agreed to have their ceremonies on the same day. The logistics worked out better for everyone, as Warfang was pulling out all the stops for this double wedding..

"You ready for this, Spy?5" Flame asked the purple dragon. The two 26-year old dragons were quite young to be getting mated, but that didn't matter to them. They had found their soulmates through years of fighting and pain, and decided that it was better to become mated now than later.

"I am," Spyro replied, smiling over at his best friend. They had spent the last couple nights preparing their bodies and minds for this occasion, cleaning themselves and praying to the Gods that the marriage would go off without a hitch.

Their scales sparkled in the light, having been polished for nearly an hour. The leathery membrane of their wings had been rubbed down and cleaned, and any tears or holes had been treated and fixed.

"I hope the girls are okay.

The doors to the changing room opened, and all three in the room turned to look at the new comer. It was Hunter, dressed up nicely in his tribe's most sacred garb. He had been chosen to be the Best Man for Spyro and Flame, while Sparx was chosen to be the ringbearer.

"Spyro, Flame, it's time," Hunter told the two. The cheetah quickly exited the room, probably off to make last minute preparations.

Spyro turned to his best friend, a wide grin on his face. "Show time."

Flame grinned back, and the two dragons walked out of the changing room and into the gigantic main room of the Grand Hall. The ceiling stretched high over their heads, making those underneath it feel small and insignificant.

Today, however, it had no effect on Spyro and his best friend. Has they reached the large door, Hunter caught up with them, as well as Elora, a faun, who was also the Maid of Honor, and Tares, the officiant for the ceremony.

Tares was an ancient ape, and part of one of the few clans that rejected Malefor's offer of power. He was a mystic, who communed the Gods often to provide guidance and leadership to those who needed it. He held considerable favor with the Gods, and had been the officiant for many a wedding.

In fact, he was hand chosen by Jaredir, the Goddess of Weddings, to be the minister for any large-scale unions. This was one of them.

Spyro and Flame bowed at the old ape, who returned a kind smile. His black and golden garb had multiple symbols and patches sewn onto it, indicating his rank and role. In his gray-furred hands was an old, weathered book, which looked as if it hadn't been used in a long time.

"It's been a long time since I've done one of these," the ape said, a warm smile on his face. He turned to the two dragons behind him.

"Are you ready?" he asked, and received nods from both dragons.

"Then let's go," Tares said, and pushed open the massive doors.

Bright light immediately rushed into their eyes, causing them to squint as their eyes readjusted to the intense brightness. The group stepped forward, and began walking down the stairs to the massive, several hundred foot long aisle.

Millions of people stood on either side of the aisle, while millions more watched on magical screens far away from Warfang. As he looked out at the crowd, Spyro immediately felt anxious at the sheer number of eyes directed at him. He felt as if they were judging him, for doing part of the ceremony out of order.

Traditionally, the parents and grandparents of both the groom and bride were supposed to walk down the aisle first and take their seats. Unfortunately, for all four dragons, their parents and grandparents were either missing, dead, or unknown. In their stead, the various Guardians filled in, and were already sitting down.

Spyro, Flame, Hunter, Elora and Tares descended the steps onto the white-tiled aisle, and instantly cheers arose from the massive crowd.

Dyros, how many people are here?! Spyro wondered, as his gaze darted around the crowd. People of every race were here, from dragons to avians, felines to ursines, and equines to apes. This is pretty much all of Warfang!

The cheering of the crowd was one of the loudest things that Spyro had ever heard in his life. Fortunately, as soon as he stook a couple steps down the long aisle, noise-reducing barriers made of magic sprung up, and the volume decreased dramatically.

The four smiled as they began the long trek down the aisle, waving at the various people in the crowd. As they walked, the five began to feel less and less nervous, as the crowd continued to cheer them on. A good two minutes later, they made it to the large white and gold stand at the end of the aisle, where they stopped and waited.

As he stood there, Spyro saw dozens of foreign kings, queens, and leaders sitting near the Guardians and the Warfang King and Queen. He smiled at them, and all of them smiled back at him.

The crowd quieted down as they waited for the next people to come out of the Grand Hall. Thirty seconds after the group reached the stand, the next pair began walking out of the large doors.

Spyro watched with keen eyes as Sparx, the ring bearer, and Antinanco, Matton and Dawn's hatchling, made their way down the aisle. Antinanco was having the best time, throwing multi-colored flowers all across the aisle. Sparx held a box nearly five times his size in his magic-strengthened hands, and was grinning at all the attention he received.

The dragonfly and phoenix eventually made their way to the end of the aisle, where Antinanco went to sit with her parents. Sparx flew up next to Spyro and Flame, and rested the box on a pedestal.

"Whew! That thing is not light, let me tell ya," Sparx said, wiping away an imaginary bead of sweat from his head. Spyro barely listened to what he had to say, eagerly watching the doors for his soon-to-be mate.

His heart fluttered rapidly as he saw the doors to the Grand Hall fling open and two figures come out. Straining his eyes, he could see that one of them was black and white, while the other was red and white.

Cheers erupted from the audience again as Cynder and Ember began the walk down the aisle, and the pair waved and smiled at the crowd around them.

As they got closer, he could make out the dresses they were wearing. Spyro gasped as he saw Cynder's dress. It was a beautiful white and gold color, and flowed down her back and onto the ground.

Cynder herself looked absolutely beautiful. There wasn't a single dull scale on her body, and her horns gleamed in the sunlight. The blades on her wings were polished and sharpened, causing sunlight to glint off them.

Cynder and Ember walked up to the stand and stood across from Spyro and Flame. With everyone there, Tares cleared his throat and began to speak, his voice amplified by powerful magics.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the joining of two pairs…"

Tares began talking about this particular marriage and why it was so important, but Spyro could barely listen. Excitement was flooding through him like a hurricane in a valley. This was the moment he had been waiting years for.

Cynder smiled at him the only a dragoness like her could: a way that melted his heart. He smiled back at her. So many thoughts ran through his head as he stood there, doing his best to keep himself from fiddling with his hands.

"Cynder, do you take Spyro as your mate?" Spyro heard Tares ask the black dragoness.

"I do," was her reply.

"Spyro, do you take Cynder as your mate?" Tares asked the purple dragon. Spyro gazed into Cynder's emerald eyes, and smiled.

"I do."

"Please give each other your rings," Tares instructed. Sparx floated over with the ring box, and opened it to reveal four beautiful, shining rings. Each ring was in the color of their scales.

Ember pulled the ring for Flame out of the box. It was a beautiful pink, black, and red, and a heart was etched into the top. Ember slid the ring onto Flame's ring finger, and he flexed his four-fingered hand experimentally. The ring fit perfectly.

Flame repeated this with Ember, giving her a yellow and red ring. A small flame was etched onto it, and he slid the ring onto Ember's finger.

At the same time, Cynder pulled out Spyro's ring: an ebony black, blood red, and cloud white ring, made from Cynder's scales. The symbol on her back was engraved onto the ring, and she slid it onto the purple dragons finger.

Smiling, Spyro pulled out Cynder's ring. This one was made from his scales, and was colored a beautiful purple, yellow, and red. The symbol that rarely appeared on Spyro's back was engraved onto the ring, and Spyro slid it onto his loves finger.

"By the powers vested in me by Warfang, Aslore, and the Gods, I know pronounce you, Spyro and Cynder, and you, Flame and Ember, as mates!"

Spyro kissed Cynder, and Flame kissed Ember as the ape said those words. The crowd went wild at the sight, and one could hear the roar of approval all across the planet. Cheering and clapping could be heard for miles around as the new mates slowly walked back down the aisle, hand in hand.

* * *

Off in a far away land, a lonely figure watched the scene from a large pool of electric blue water of his.

Ignitus smiled at the site of the four dragons becoming mated.

He pulled their four books off the shelves closest to him, and watched as they began fusing together.

Spyro's purple and gold book twirled in the air with Cynder's black, red, and white book, emitting a bright light and the sound of rushing wind. Ignitus had to avert his eyes, and when he looked back the two books had formed a much larger tome. Swirls of purple and black collided with gold and white and red, a combination of their colors.

Ignitus' ears caught the sound of whirling wind, and he turned to the source. Ember's red and pink book was fusing with Flame's orange, red, and black book, giving it the appearance of being scorched. When they combined, splotches of various shades of red and pink appeared all over the book.

Ignitus brought the large tomes in front of him and admired the new look of the covers. Curious about what was in them, Ignitus flipped open both books. His scanned the pages, and found that the writing had changed inside. It was to be expected, what with the destinies of the dragons entwined, but he didn't know that the wording would change this dramatically.

Spyro and Cynder's book talked briefly about their parents and who they were, and how they were destined from the start to be together. It delved into how their eggs came to the temple and what happened the night of the raid, ending with how Spyro was sent away by Ignitus while Cynder's egg was stolen.

He found the wording interesting, as if Nidos, the God of Time, had rewritten it himself. Knowing the God personally, it was quite likely.

Checking the backs of both books, Ignitus found that there were plenty of blank pages just waiting to be filled. He smiled at that, excited that there was still so much for the four dragons to do.

The now blue-scaled dragon placed the books back onto the shelf. He would keep them close by, so that he could quickly make changes and add to the books. Smiling in joy for the four, he closed the vision in the pool and walked off to another area of the Caves.

* * *

That night, the four dragons and dragonfly slept soundly in their new homes. Spyro and Cynder were happy to finally be mated after so many years together. The day had permanently changed both of their lives for the better.

What happened while they were sleeping, however, would shatter every notion they had of one of the worst events in their life.

* * *

"Nidos, I need you to do something for me."

"What do you want, Atia?"

"I need you to send Spyro and Cynder's spirits to a special location as they sleep. There is someone I would like them to meet."

"Very well. There is no need to tell me where; I already know. I'll let him know he's about to have visitors."

Date Unknown

Location Unknown

Time Unknown

"Spyro, honey, wake up."

Spyro groaned tiredly as he opened his amethyst eyes. There was a dark, blurry shape standing over him, staring into his eyes. He was lying on his side on a cold and smooth surface,

The last thing he remembered was falling asleep with Cynder in their house. The day before they had gone through the mateship ceremony, and had consummated their mateship that night. He couldn't recall anything after that; it was all just a blur.

As his eyes adjusted to the dim yellow light, Spyro could make out the black form of Cynder above him. Worry was written across her face as she gazed over his prone form.

"W-Where are we?" he managed to croak out, his throat feeling incredibly sore. The purple dragon rolled over, freeing his wings and tail from underneath his body.

There was a moment of silence as Cynder looked around the area. "I don't know. I was hoping you could tell me." Spyro got to his feet, stretching out his tired muscles.

The purple dragon looked around, noting the pale blue and white crystals that dotted the area. Yellow orbs hung on the walls, giving off a soft golden light.

"I recognize this place. It's the Celestial Caves, in the White Isles! But that must mean-"

"Hello again, young dragons," spoke a familiar sounding voice. Spyro and Cynder whipped their heads around to see a darkened figure standing in the doorway.

The two mates let out a loud gasp as the figure stepped into the light, revealing who they were.

He was only slightly taller than either of the dragons. Several bags of books, scrolls, feather pens, and ink were strapped to his body. A small hourglass hung from a chain around his neck, and a black cape flowed across his back.

Spyro instantly recognized the older dragon in front of him: the horns, fins, and especially that comforting smile. Aside from his scales being blue instead of red, the dragon looked exactly the same as the day he 'died' eight years ago.

"I-Ignitus? Is - Is that really you?6" Spyro's voice quivered, eyes as wide as they could go. Emotions ran through him, and tears immediately began falling from his eyes.

"Yes Spyro, it's me. It is good to see you again," Ignitus said. His face softened as Spyro cried out in joy and wrapped his paws around the Chronicler in a hug. Cynder, her own tears spilling down her muzzle, came up to the pair and joined in on the hug.

The three stayed in that position for a few seconds before splitting apart, Cynder and Spyro standing next to each other as they faced their old mentor.

"It's been a long time, hasn't it?" Ignitus asked. Spyro nodded at the blue dragon, wiping away a couple tears. "Eight years since we saw you… well…" Spyro trailed off.

Ignitus nodded, a smile gracing his face. "You've grown so much," his gaze shifted to Cynder, "both of you. You're so different from being those two young dragons who gave Aslore its life back."

Cynder and Spyro tearfully smiled back at the former Guardian.

"It hasn't been the same in Warfang without you," Cynder told him. Ignitus' face fell at the words.

"I know. But if the city has endured this long without me, then it can endure forever. Warfang was my home for many years; now it will be yours."

"The Guardians wonder where you are in the spirit world. They want to talk to you again."

Ignitus slowly shook his head. "I can't do that; the Chronicler is not allowed to communicate with the outside world, aside from the purple dragon and those the Gods deem necessary."

"Even Kindle, your cousin?" Spyro asked.

Ignitus nodded.

"Especially her."

Spyro and Cynder frowned slightly, until Spyro asked another question.

"Wh-what happened to you?"

Ignitus took a deep breath.

"After the fires of the Ring of Annihilation consumed my body, my soul was inexplicably pulled across the world. It was here that I waited for an audience with the previous Chronicler.

"He told me that every 5,000 years a new Chronicler is chosen to watch and record the events of that age. The day you defeated Malefor marked the end of the 76th age, and the beginning of the 77th. The old Chronicler needed a successor."

"Why didn't tell us you were still alive? Why didn't you tell me?" Spyro asked, tears falling from his eyes. Cynder, who began crying as well, nuzzled Spyro's neck.

"You needed time to get over my death, Spyro. If you were told I was still alive, you would've gone out of your way to find me and bring me back. Remember what I told you when Gitria was nearly destroyed?" Ignitus questioned the purple dragon.

Spyro nodded, "'All things will come to pass with enough time. They must go their natural course, else we descend into chaos.'"

"That was also meant to make you realize that even the dead need time to fully pass into the arms of the Gods, Spyro. I needed time to fully embrace my new position as the Chronicler. If you came looking for me, I would be torn from my job."

Spyro's gaze turned away from Ignitus. "I-I see. I'm sorry, I didn't know that-"

"It's ok, Spyro. There was no harm done, so there is no need to apologize,"

Spyro nodded, and once again wiped away the tears collecting on his face.

"While we're here, could you show us who are parents are?" the purple dragon requested, hope filling his eyes. Once he and Cynder knew who their parents were, they could go looking for them if they were still alive.

Ignitus opened his mouth to answer when a new voice entered the room.

"I'm afraid that time is up, you three. I'm sorry, but you must return to your bodies," said the new entry, immediately drawing the attention of the three dragons.

He was an incredibly tall dragon, a little over 30 feet tall. His head touched the ceiling, and the room actually warped to make room for his body. His scales were a mix of pale blue and gold, and swirled across his body.

This was Nidos, the dragon God of Time. He was one of the most powerful Gods in the Realm of Aslore, and was in charge of keeping Aslore's timestream intact.

"No, please, don't send us back yet! I have so many questions!" Spyro yelled out to Nidos. Nidos shook his head.

"I have to do this Spyro, for reasons you can't know just yet," Nidos said. His voice seemed to recede and fade at the same time, a product of timelines shifting around him.

The dragon God stepped towards Spyro and Cynder, telekinetically holding them in place. He closed his eyes, and a golden light traveled out of his body and into the two dragons.

Cynder looked to Spyro, and simply nodded to him. She silently told him that there was nothing they could do, and they just had to accept.

Spyro turned to look at Ignitus one last time, tears forming in his eyes again.

"Will I ever seen you again?" he asked his old mentor.

"Yes Spyro. I will see both of you again.. Now, go out there and live. For me," Ignitus instructed.

Ignitus' smile was the last thing Spyro saw until he woke up in his bed.

* * *

Spyro watched as the golden buildings raced below him, and he quickly formed a wind vortex around him to speed himself up. Angling his wings up, the purple dragon ascended into the sky, making sure to move out of the way of flying carriages.

He stopped ascending after reaching a height of about a thousand feet. He could see for miles around up there, such as where the inner city met the outer city.

His destination was further ahead, right at the very heart of the inner city, where the true seat of power in Warfang rested: the King's Court Spire. It was not often that he was ordered to report to the Court, even as an advisor.

If they requested him for a meeting, it meant that whatever they needed him for was likely highly important.

Spyro crested one of many large towers of the financial sector, and soon the giant Court Spire7 came into view. The Spire was a large, cylidnrical building, with two towers coiling up the sides. They criss-crossed over each other like a pair of snakes, before joining at the top. The top of the Spire widened out, giving it a somewhat bulbous appearance.

The huge building rose over one and a half thousand feet into the air, towering over the rest of the city-state. It was a constant eight hundred feet wide, allowing thousands of people to be in its various rooms and offices. A constant stream of people went in and out of the tower through its various entrances, from the large doors of the ground floor to the platforms that dotted the exterior.

Being a Guardian, Spyro had access to the platforms near the top of the Spire, which led directly into a waiting lobby for the King's Court. He flew up to it, dodging the hundreds of dragons and other flying races who were making their way to the Spire.

Spyro landed on the golden platform, the wind rushing past his ears. The fins on his head and spine wavered from the intense gusts of air. In front of him was the door that led into the Spyro. The symbol of the Guardians was engraved onto the front, and Spyro took a step towards it.

A white beam shot out of the door and locked onto Spyro's head. It scaneed him for several seconds, before vanishing with a 'beep'. Lines in the door and the platform began to glow purple, lighting up the Guardian symbol. The door opened, and Spyro entered the Spire.

The purple dragon walked down a crystaline hallway, with pulsing gold and red lights one the various walls. Spyro could sense the well-crafted and powerful magics scanning his mind, registering him into the Spire's logs and generating the lobby. Walking down to the end of the hallway, the purple dragon opened the door in front of him.

One of the coolest features of the lobby, and perhaps one of the most complex magic spells ever crafted, was the ability to change its appearance to anyone who entered. It was similar to the spells that made rooms change size. This spell, however, didn't just change size.

The entire interior could change to fit whatever someone thought it should look like. For one person it would appear as a room made entirely of gold, while to another it would be covered in moss and have water spilling over into emerald pools.

To Spyro, the room looked like it was in four different location: the brown and orange swamp where he grew up, the pale blue Celestial Caves, the green and crystal blue valley of Avalar, and the magitech gold and white of Warfang.

One aspect of the room that never changed, however, was the desk in the back of the room, the entrances to the Court, and the other doors that allowed people in and out.

Spyro didn't see many people in the room, which was understandable. Properly scheduled Courts usually had the room bustling with people, but not so much with an emergency session.

Aside from the receptionist, the only other person he saw in the room was a tall black, red, silver, and yellow dragoness. Unlike most Artisans or other dragons in general, she had an exceptionally long neck, with only a slightly longer body. Large spikes, almost 7 feet long at the largest, ran up and down her body. She had an axe-like tailblade, and smiliar looking wingblades.

This was Zirra, an Adalisk and one of the strongest dragons on the planet.

"Good morning Zirra," greeted Spyro. The black and silver Adalisk warily nodded at the purple dragon, watching him with a careful eye. She was the representative of the Adalisk species, and like the rest of her kind she was incredibly wary of the purple dragon.

Aside from Dream weavers, Adalisks were the only dragon species capable of creating elements and conjuring them from their surrounding environments. Give them a plant, and they could turn into a form of poison that they could use. Have them wade into a lake, and they could create ice out of the water. There were rumors that some Adalisks could even use elements not of the planet.

Because of the ability for purple dragons to learn and use every element that existed, Adalisks were cautious of them and their power. This was proven all too well with Malefor: he had gone out of his way to capture Adalisks and use them to give him more and more power to the point that he was bursting at the seams with it.

While some Adalisks realized that Spyro was nowhere near as evil as his predecessor, they were reluctant to have him learn of their ways. Zirra even threatened to kill him should she ever see him turning to his dark form.

"Good morning to you as well," Zirra replied dryly. Spyro frowned at the tone. What's up with her today? he wondered. He paid it no mind, however, seeing that the meeting was more important.

They both walked up to the receptionist, a fair-skinned female faun. She wore a fancy black dress with a white shirt underneath. As the two dragons neared, she placed the book she was reading underneath the table.

"Good morning. Are you here for the current Court session?" the faun asked the two dragons. Spyro and Zirra nodded. Looks like she's brand new, if her knowledge of us is so low, thought the purple dragon.

The faun smiled and pressed a button on the desk, unlocking the doors to the Court chamber.

"Please head inside. The councilors are waiting for you," the faun told them. Spyro smiled at her, while Zirra kept up her uninterested look.

The two dragons entered the giant Court chambers, and saw the various Kings, Queens, leaders of the empires of Aslore sitting on the benches that circled the room.

Five windows, each large enough to fit a fully-grown Artisan dragon, were placed around the room, allowing those inside to look out at the city below.

The King of Warfang, a large tan and green earth Artisan dragon named Tremor, and his mate, an orange and blue Dream weaver named Moontear, were seated on two thrones at the back of the room.

Zirra and Spyro took their places at their respective seats: Zirra in the representatives section, and Spyro near the thrones. Once they were seated, Tremor stood up and addressed the Court.

"I call this emergency session of the King's Court to begin. Recently, we have been getting disturbing reports from every corner of Aslore of people going missing and unusual magics and powers being detected. Tessith, if you would tell us what has been going on?"

A blue and green Magic crafter stood up from the representatives section. Spyro looked him over, noticing that there were no royal markings or clothing on him. The short dragon wore a red and brown cloak, and Spyro could see insignias of something on a necklace he wore and sewn into his cloak.

Tessith walked up to the stand in front of the throne, and cleared his throat. When he spoke, it came out higher-pitched and more gravelly than an Artisan's voice.

"Four days ago, the Ministry of Exploration and Discovery created an expedition team and sent them out into an area that was giving off some weird readings on our magic scanners. A day later, the team failed to report in at the set time. The supervisor of the mission, Blacktalon, ordered a gryphon recovery unit to fly to the team's last known location."

Tessith glanced over at the gryphon in question, who nodded in confirmation. The magic crafter looked back at the Court as he continued.

"The recovery team never returned to base. We wanted to know if there was possibly something preventing from returning, so we conducted a large, magical scan of the area in question. The results that were returned were… somewhat horrifying to say the least."

Tessith glanced over at Tremor, who nodded at him to continue. The comparatively small Magic crafter took a deep breath before speaking again.

"The scan revealed that there was some form of energy- not magic, mind you -which, as far as we can tell, was literally eating away at reality. Swaths of land just disappeared, leaving nothing but black dust on the ground," the Magic crafter finished.

The dragon sent out mental pictures to everyone in the room, and there were gasps from the audience at what they saw.

Forests, animals, and old buildings were just… gone. It was almost as if they never existed.

"Visually, it looked like the land itself was being stretched. Furthermore, whenever we tried getting close, we found that the area was unimaginably cold. It was like the universe itself was ripping itself apart in that small, concentrated area," Tessith continued.

Spyro saw Sludge, the King of the Beast makers, stand up at his spot. The short but burly dragon spoke with a deep, rough sounding voice.

"This coincides with sightings of portals people have been seeing. We've also been getting numerous reports lately of random people going missing. One common element of the reports is that it's usually dragons who are on night flights that disappear. When we scan the area for magic afterwards, we either find nothing or what you just showed," he told the Court.

"Us as well. We haven't seen anything like this," the gritty and dangerous voice of Firenado, the Peace keeper Queen of Cresshen told the Court.

"Us too."

"And us."

"There's never been anything like this in our history!"

One by one, the various leaders began to say what they had been finding. The noise level began to increase as the talking became louder, until Tremor raised a paw. The room instantly went silent.

"Now, I would say that all of you should have brought this up before, but this issue is highly concerning." The King turned to Spyro.

"What do you think we should do about it, Grand Master Guardian?"

Spyro narrowed his eyes, deep in thought. He had never heard of anything like this, just like the other leaders in the room.

Could it be a dragon who had some undiscovered power and was using it for evil purposes? Possibly, but Ignitus or one of the Gods would have warned him. And if the Gods hadn't told him anything about this, then maybe there was nothing they could really do.

The purple dragon sighed.

"I don't know. It might be a rogue mage or dragon using unheard of powers for evil intent. However, if that was true, the Gods would have told me something. So far I have heard nothing from them," he said, looking up at Tessith.

The Magic crafter nodded. "What does that mean?"

"It means that the Gods are likely doing their best to deal with it. It maybe something entirely out of our hands, and we just have to accept that."

Spyro turned his head to the representatives section.

"For now, keep scanning and keep an eye on the results. We may possibly have a Realm breach on our hands. If that's the case, then we really can't do anything about it. It's up to the Gods to fix that problem."

The various kings and queens nodded, crestfallen at the news.

"I see. I'll have our priests try to communicate with the Gods to resolve the issue," Tessith said to the purple dragon.

"Thank you Spyro. You are dismissed," Tremor told Spyro. The purple dragon bowed at the Kings and Queens, who bowed back, thankful for his input. He turned around and walked out of the room, ready to head back to the Academy.

As he left, the various leaders in the room looked around at each other.

"Do you think that he's telling the truth? I mean, the Gods would warn us if something was wrong, right?" asked Sierra, the Queen of the Avians.

Moontear spoke up. Her voice, like all other Dream weavers, was not spoken, but sent by the mind. Her voice was like silk, soft and peaceful on the ears.

"We can not comprehend what the Gods are planning. We must simply hope and pray that they can fix this. Remember, the purple dragon is chosen by the Gods to be their earthen vessel. If they won't speak even to him, then it is quite grave."

Sierra nodded at the answer.

"When should we tell Spyro about the curse of the purple dragon? I know that the Guardians have sworn to not tell him until it is time, but should we decided when that time is?" asked Tessith, suddenly changing topics.

"No. We will give him another hundred years or so before we tell him. We don't want him worrying about it now," Tremor eventually replied.

"He's only got what, 155 years left? You know what happens to the purple dragon. It didn't happen to Malefor, but I'm sure that it will happen to him."

"There's nothing we can do about it. It's up to the Gods to decide whether they take him when he turns 200. Until then, we keep letting him believe that he has an average lifespan."

"I see. I will defer to your judgement, Tremor," Tessith accepted.

"I know that you want to tell the savior of Aslore what his eventual fate will be, but we just can't do that until he's about to turn 200. It will just complicate things. It is unfortunate that he will not live for very long, but that is not something we can change. Now, let's get back to business…" Tremor said, and began talking about something else.

Underneath his breath, unheard by everyone else, Tessith whispered to himself. "If what is happening in Hefors spreads to every corner of the planet, then none of us will live long."

* * *

"My lord, I have completed the tasks you have given me. What is my next objective?"

"Let the fools on this world believe that they have driven us off. Once they think life has gone back to normal, strike the land of Imura first and damage the 'magical' connections of this planet. After that, raze Hefors to the grounds, following with Mimun, Cresshen, and finally Avalar. Leave Warfang alone until the other lands have been conquered."

"But my Lord, won't the Gods notice what we are doing?"

"They won't. I have something special planned for them, and that purple dragon Spyro."

"Do you want me to kill him?"

"No. Turn him. If he can be brought to the Tide, then we will have a very powerful ally."

"Yes, my Lord."

"You have your orders. Now go, and carry them out!"

"It will be done, my Lord."

The swirling mass of energy closed the connection. It started chuckling, which soon turned into full-blown laughter. Galaxies, both dead, dying, or conquered, shattered and detonated. The lifeless universe recoiled at the power of that which called it home.

"Finally. After two hundred fifty thousand years, my revenge will finally be complete!"

* * *

"They've arrived on our world! How did that happen?"

"I don't know! They must've found a way to enter our Realm without us noticing the breach!"

"Well, where on Aslore could they possibly breach? We see and hear everything that happens on our world!"

"They likely entered when we were distracted or otherwise occupied by something. And the only time when that happened was right after Spyro and Cynder found the Temple."

"We need to tell the others! If it's here, then our world doesn't have long. Everyone needs to prepare for the horror that's about to erupt."

"I agree. It looks like we'll have to accelerate our plans. Go and tell the others that we have to talk. I'll start working on a strategy to fight it off."

"And them?"

"Who? Spyro and Cynder?"

"No. The Warmasters. What should we do about them? "

"We may not have a choice. We've vastly underestimated our enemy's powers. Even if other Realms came to our aid, it's unlikely we will win. No; we need the Warmasters."

"If that's the case then I can alert Spyro and Cynder and bring them here. They're the only ones powerful enough to breach the dimensions and get a signal out."

"Do it. Summon the others first, though. We need a plan before we bring the Warmaster to our Realm."

"There is the matter of Kytresa and her children. I don't think they will fully appreciate us bringing the Warmasters back to this realm. Remember that war they had all those years ago? They've twisted the actual history behind it into something terrible. "

"They have a right to know as well. We'll still need their input. And if they start complaining about working with the Warmasters, then we'll just have to convince them they aren't out for revenge."

"Understood. I'll also make sure that Spyro and Cynder's parents don't learn about what's about to happen. We need them to stay out on the front until we can give them some proper support."

"Good idea. Now go and get the others; we must commence planning immediately."

* * *

**What is this thing that's turning people into twisted mutations? And who are these Warmasters that our mysterious individuals keep talking about?**

**You'll have to wait and find out. All will be revealed in good time.**

**I apologize if this chapter felt rushed at some parts. Please let me know if there are any spelling/grammatical errors in this. I try my best, but even the best authors need help.**

**If you couldn't already tell, I designed the Warfang Academy to basically be every type of school you go to in real life (K-12 then University or College).**

**With the wedding, I decided to use modern day western-style weddings with my own little twist on them. So don't be confused if something is missing from the wedding scene, as this is another world it's taking place on.**

**A key component of this story is the technology of Aslore. Thanks to Toothless and his colleagues, the technology of the world is about the same as that of the original Spyro the Dragon. There are few differences here and there, but overall it's pretty much the same.**

**Another key thing about this story is every dragon type you see in the original Spyro games has their own kingdom in this story. Now, Warfang and the Artisans share the same continent of Avalar. However, Warfang is considered its own territory, and is much more open to anyone who wishes to become a citizen. There is a huge mix of all species in Warfang, far more than any other Kingdom.**

**In my headcanon, Spyro is merely 10 in ANB, 11 in TEN, and 14 in DotD. In this story, he and Cynder took an extra year in DotD to defeat Malefor, making them 15. They get mated at the age of 25, and are 45 by this chapter.**

**I'm dropping hints of various mysteries and answers throughout the story. See if you can figure out what I'm planning. (If you do, don't spoil it for the others. Just PM me about it.)**

**So many new characters and species that I either own or don't own! Let me break it down:**

**The Kuros species belongs to WeirdHyenas (deviantart).**

**The Adalisks and Zirra belong to Seeraphine (deviantart).**

**Kindle belongs to DragonCid (deviantart).**

**Paarthurnax and the Dovah belong to Bethesda.**

**The Guardians Typhonis, Terroric, Ventus, Toxica, Umbran, Lumar and Miakis belong to me. Parnaser and other random characters also belong to me.**

**I have permission to the characters and races that aren't mine.**

**While I am using the dragon races found in the original Spyro games, they look very different from what everyone is used to. If you are curious, check my profile page for a link that shows what I'm basing the different species off of (I am excluding the Falx Cauda race.) The picture belongs to ThisCripsyKat, who has given me permission to use it.**

**Don't forget to review, and I'll see you in the next chapter!**


	8. Arc 2: Chapter 2(7):Monsters at the Door

A/N: Alright, chapter 7 here we go! This is where the main fun of the story really starts! Are you guys excited? I sure am!

I'd like to thank all of you people for reading this story and putting up with it so far. I know that some of you really want to get to the action, and that starts with this chapter.

Remember that warning I gave you readers about how gory the story is going to get? That begins here. There won't be a whole lot this chapter, but most of the ensuing chapters will have gore galore!

Music for this chapter:

City in the Clouds - Dracovallis

Big Mystery - Tom Salta

Mystery - Ninja Gaiden

Darkness on the Edge of Power - Immediate Music

Ashes - Martin O'Donnell

Aslore months - Earth months:

Aas = January

Yiln = February

Maur = March

Qlist = April

Criw = May

Exard = June  
Gecus = July

Ikall = August

Sruln = September

Druvirt = October

Frurst = November

Karis = December

TLoS and characters belong to Activision.

Toothless and the Night Fury species belongs to Dreamworks.

The Kuros species belongs to WeirdHyenas (deviantart).

The Adalisks and Zirra belong to Seeraphine (deviantart).

Kindle belongs to DragonCid (deviantart).

The Guardians Typhonis, Terroric, Ventus, Toxica, Umbran, Lumar and Miakis belong to me. Parnaser, Starlight, Briam and other random characters also belong to me.

I have permission to use the characters and species that aren't mine and don't belong to production companies.

Enjoy!

* * *

Gecus 19th, Season of Fire, Year 30, 77th Age

Academy District, Inner City, Warfang

7:42 AM

Toothless' screech and ensuing plasma blast once again woke up the inner city of Warfang1.

Two dragons in the Academy district, however, were already up long before the Night Fury even made his way to the inner city.

Spyro and Cynder had been having a bit of "fun" in their room, and were currently tickling and messing with each other under the covers. Small amounts of sweat coated their bodies, the only remaining evidence of their physical interaction.

The two dragons giggled as they targeted each others ticklish spots, their long talons dancing over red, black, purple, and yellow scales. Every once in a while one of them would let out a very un-draconic-like purr.

It was a good thing Sparx was off visiting his family in the swamp for the week, for the two dragons would never hear the end of it.

The covers were eventually thrown to the side, thanks to the antics of the dragons. Both of the dragons stared into each others eyes, as if they were gazing into their respective souls. They found themselves in each other, a connection neither of them could describe, and embraced it.

"Good morning, again," Cynder giggled, breaking the impromptu staring contest. Spyro chuckled and licked his mate across her cheek.

"'Morning, beautiful," the purple dragon complimented his mate. His eyes briefly trailed down her body, small amounts of various bodily fluids sticking to her lower abdomen. His amethyst orbs, surrounded by a golden sclera, narrowed slightly, a lustful gaze appearing on his face.

Cynder's smile drooped as she noticed her mates eyes glaze over. The black dragoness could smell his body giving off mating pheromones, a sign that he wanted to take her again.

If they had time, Cynder would have definitely gone at it again with her mate; Spyro was amazing in bed. Alas; with only an hour to get ready before teaching, there simply wasn't enough time.

"We should get ready for class," Cynder said to her mate, breaking him out of the trance he was in. The purple dragon nodded and smiled, licking her again across the cheek.

"So soon?" he asked. "I was hoping we could continue some more." A grin started to make its way onto his face.

Cynder giggled as Spyro's tail brushed up against her thigh. She kissed her mate firmly on his scaly lips, drawing away a second later.

"Maybe later this week, honey. I don't want to be late for class again. Remember how mad Terrador got last time we weren't on time?" she asked, lightly pressing her paws against Spyro's chest.

Spyro shuddered at the memory. He and Cynder had been up all night, grading papers and getting lessons ready. They were an hour late to the Academy in the morning, and Terrador was pissed, to say the least. He had to teach two classes at the same time, which wouldn't be so bad if it weren't for the fact that one revolved around combat and the other was about the history of Aslore.

"Yeah, let's not have that happen again," Spyro said, agreeing with Cynder.

"I'll make us some breakfast," Cynder kissed her mate on the lips. He smiled at her as the dragoness got out of bed and walked downstairs, a slight sway in her hips.

Spyro hopped out of bed and pulled the sheets off the large cushion, before tossing them into a bin full of stuff to be washed and cleaned. He took some fresh sheets and blankets out of a drawer and began making the bed as he heard Cynder turn on the stove downstairs.

When done, the purple drake padded into the bathroom and shifted into his bipedal form. Taking off his sleepwear, he stepped into the shower and turned on the water, feeling his muscles relax as the hot water coated his scales.

He began slathering on some soap and scale polish, and hummed to himself as he washed his body.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Cynder turned on the stove and began preparing breakfast: scrambled eggs, a fruit salad, and some chicken using a special recipe she found.

She hummed to herself as she cooked, the smell of eggs and roasted chicken (fireballs were much quicker than the stove) filling the air.

The dragoness was done ten minutes later, right as the sound of running water from the shower died away.

"Spyro! Breakfast is ready!" Cynder called up to her mate. She turned off the stove and placed the food on two plates, before carrying them over to the dining table, grabbing some salt and pepper on the way.

"Alright, I'll be right there!" Spyro yelled back to her. The purple dragon stood in front of the large mirror in the bathroom, checking for any damaged or loose scales on his body. He smoothed the fins running down his back, making sure that they stood up straight.

Once he felt he looked good enough, he clasped his Guardian necklace around his neck, and pulled his cloak out of the drawer. He wrapped it around his body, fitting his wings through the slits on the cloak before attaching it to his necklace.

The purple dragon walked out of the bathroom, and was instantly hit with the delicious smell of cooked meat and eggs. His mouth started to water at the scent as he walked downstairs to the dining room. He found Cynder sitting at the table, digging into her food. Across from her was his plate, with chicken, eggs, and fruit piled onto it.

"You didn't wait for me?" Spyro teased, smiling as he sat down. Cynder looked up at him, her mouth stuffed with food. She paused before swallowing her food and smiling at her mate. Spyro sat down.

"Well, our little 'session' this morning got me pretty hungry," Cynder smirked. Spyro blushed, his grin growing wider. He leaned across the table and gave the dragoness a peck on the cheek.

"We should do it more often," Spyro suggested, a sly grin appearing on his muzzle. He cut off a piece of the chicken and popped it in his mouth. Intense flavor rushed through his mouth, and the dragon found himself wanting more of the delicious meat.

What did Cynder put on this? he wondered. Did she use what he taught her about spices, after she tasted the venison he cooked?

"Mmmmm, this is delicious!" the purple drake said, still chewing on the food. He quickly swallowed and tore into the meal, wanting more of the spiced meat.

"I'm glad you like it, honey," Cynder smiled at him. She took another bite of her chicken.

"What did you put on this?" he asked, staring at a piece of white meat stuck on his fork.

"I'm afraid that's my little secret," Cynder teased, smirking at the dragon across from her.

"Oh, so all those times when I showed you how to spice things count for nothing?" Spyro grinned.

Cynder shrugged, and Spyro went back to his meal. Silence filled the air as the two dragons ate.

"So what's on the agenda today?" Spyro asked, breaking the tranquility of the room.

"It's mostly testing today. I've only got one class that's not doing any sort of testing, and that's my Death element class," Cynder told her mate, finishing up the food on her plate.

Spyro snickered. "I'm guessing you don't want to explain to Terrador why there's 25 dead students in the combat arena?"

"Yeah, that and the fact that trying to dispose of that many bodies wouldn't be the easiest thing to do," Cynder joked with the drake. They both chuckled, before Cynder asked the same of Spyro.

"Anything big going on for you today?" The dragoness stood up and took her plate over to the dishwasher.

"Not much. It's just a regular day for my magic and elemental classes," Spyro said, trying to remember what was scheduled for the day. "Oh! I'm also going to try to teach the Time Fury to a couple students today, so don't be worried if you get any weird feelings of déjà vu around noon."

Cynder turned to her mate, raising an eyeridge. Spyro simply shrugged. "What?

"I'm going to take a shower. You wouldn't mind cleaning up at all, would you?" Cynder asked her mate as she began walking to the bathroom.

"Not at all, dear," Spyro called after the dragoness. He watched her walk up the stairs, the clicking of her talons against the tile being the only sound in the house, and finished the rest of his breakfast. Picking up his plate, he deposited it into the dishwasher, and set about cleaning up kitchen.

He heard the sound of water rushing through pipes as Cynder turned on the shower. Hope she doesn't take too long in there, Spyro thought as he looked at the clock hanging above the sink. Classes started in about 45 minutes, meaning he and Cynder had to leave within the next ten they still wanted to walk through the park.

Spyro placed the final pan in the dishwasher and started it before walking off to the bedroom. Cynder was still in the bathroom, but thankfully was out of the shower. The purple dragon decided to do a last minute check of his bag to make sure that he had all his teaching supplies.

He picked up his yellow and purple bag, the symbols of the Guardians and his elements engraved on the flap, and set it on the bed. To save some time, he picked up Cynder's as well, and began rummaging through both.

Planner? Check. Lessons? Check. Worksheets? Check. Books? Check. Graded papers? Check, Spyro ran through the list of items in his head as he saw them. Once done, he put his bag on the ground before repeating the process with Cynder's bag.

He heard the bathroom door open and turned to see his mate walk out, her necklace hanging under her neck and her cloak clasped to her back. Her scales looked clean and shiny, and her body gave off the most pleasant aroma he could imagine.

"We got everything?" Cynder asked as she walked up to him. Spyro nodded and gestured to the bags.

"I've got my stuff ready, and I checked your bag. I think you've got everything, but you might want to double check," Spyro said to his mate as he slung his bag over his shoulder.

Cynder kissed him on the cheek. "Thanks for looking," she smiled, and rummaged through her bag, making sure she had all her supplies ready. As she looked through her bag, Spyro spared a glance at the clock on the wall. He frowned upon seeing the time.

"I don't think we'll have enough time to walk to the Academy."

Cynder looked up from her bag to the clock. It read 9:12; only 18 minutes before the Academy opened and the first classes began. The black dragoness let out a sigh.

"Doesn't look like it," she said, and picked up her bag. Slinging it across her shoulder, she nodded at Spyro.

"Let's go."

The two walked downstairs, grabbing their keys on the way out. They entered the entryway, and Spyro waved his hand to turn off the lights. A brief burst of magic later, and the rooms dimmed as the globes of light that lit them up vanished.

"I hope we don't have something problematic come up," Cynder said, taking a peek out the window. "It's too beautiful a day to get ruined."

Spyro nodded in agreement. "Well, today should-"

Spyro was interrupted by a humming sound coming from the communication crystal in the living room. He frowned, wondering who would be calling he and Cynder this early in the morning.

He glanced at Cynder, noticing she had a similar look on her face. Both of them walked into the living room, spotting the pulsating blue crystal spinning in the air. Spyro padded up to it and pressed his paw against the crystal..

The crystal split apart into four smaller pieces, and formed a rectangle in the air. A blue screen shimmered into existence within the rectangle, and the face of Tremor appeared before them.

"Good morning, Master Guardians," the King said, smiling at the mated pair. He appeared to be in the Courtroom, if the sound in the background was anything to go by.

"Good morning, your majesty," the two dragons said at the same time, giving a brief bow to Tremor. They looked him in the eye, smiles gracing their faces.

Their thoughts were a different story. Questions rose in their heads as they gazed upon the King's form. Why was Tremor calling them so early in the morning? Why wasn't he sending a messenger to them? Did something happen in the Spire?

"Is there something you need, your highness?" Cynder asked the earth dragon. The King glanced to the side before turning back and nodded. A grave expression replaced the cheerful one adorning his face.

Something was obviously wrong. Neither of the Guardians had ever seen Tremor with such a look on his face.

"Have either you seen or talked to Deslan or Myria recently? They failed to arrive at one of our meetings a couple days ago, and I haven't heard anything from them for nearly a week now," the King asked2.

The two dragons glanced at each other, looks of confusion on their faces. Deslan and Myria were the King and Queen of Imura, the homeland of the Dream weaver species of dragons, responsible for keeping the magic of Aslore flowing.

Spyro hadn't sensed any change in Aslore's magical field, which meant that it was still being maintained properly. But no contact with them for a week? That instantly set off alarm bells in Spyro's mind. Why hadn't Tremor sent scouts or gone through one of the portals on the first day of no contact?

"No sir. The last I talked to them was two weeks ago. I doubt they got sick; Deslan looked quite healthy to me," Cynder said, a frown marring her face. Something serious must've have happened in Imura.

Tremor sighed audibly, and hung his head. "I was afraid of this. The portal network's been shut down to their kingdom, and the scouts I sent out today haven't reported back to me."

"With respect, Tremor, why didn't you send out scouts the first day of no contact?" Cynder asked. Military training from Malefor (much of which she regretted learning) kicked in, and she began looking at this whole situation strategically.

Looking over at Spyro, she saw him nod at her late suggestion. The idea was logical.

"I...I don't know. I haven't been feeling right in my head the last couple days; everything seems a little slower, a little harder to think and concentrate."

Spyro and Cynder's eyes widened, the alarm bells in their heads turning into full out screeches. The two looked at each other again, and turned back to the King. No contact for a week? Not making the best tactical decisions when they were needed?

"In fact, none of the other counselors or leaders have been feeling well."

That was the last thing Spyro and Cynder needed to hear. With everything Tremor said, this was sounding more and more like the preamble to invasion. But who would be foolish enough to try and invade every Kingdom on Aslore? There was nothing left of the Dark Army!

Figuring out who the culprit would have to wait, however. Tremor needed to have his thoughts and mind restored, before he eventually became brain dead.

Spyro and Cynder began focusing a spell on Tremor, one designed to clear it of random thoughts and ideas.

"Call a war assembly," Spyro said authoritatively. Tremor's eyes widened at the command.

"What?" he asked in disbelief, as an unusual pressure began to manifest itself in his mind.

"Call a war assembly this afternoon, Tremor. It's possible that Warfang is about to be invaded," Spyro repeated to the shocked King. Come on, come on. Just a couple more seconds...

"Why?" Tremor all but whispered.

"Think Tremor. We haven't heard from Imura, the kingdom that maintains Aslore's magical field in almost a week. Next, you and the other kings and queens have been feeling sluggish and slow-minded lately. Finally, we haven't heard back from any of the scouts who were sent to Imura," Cynder explained.

Tremor slowly nodded, the pieces coming together in his head. The fog in his mind slowly lifted as the mind magic burned it away.

"Something is trying to invade us, and is doing its best to keep anyone from noticing," Cynder continued. She narrowed her eyes at the King, and continued to focus her magic on the King's stricken mind.

"We can't let Aslore fall to darkness again," she finished

A look of grim determination settled on the King's face. The fog clouding his thoughts disappeared.

"I will. I want you two and the Guardians to be there. I'll contact Generals Firerock, Dawnreaver, and Havenblade. Toothless should be there as well," Tremor said.

"Would it be better if we called the war assembly now? I mean, we could."

"No. I need to get in touch with the other leaders and representatives. They need to know what's going on," said Tremor.

"But didn't you just tell us the other kings and queens were not exactly right in the head?" Spyro asked.

"Yes, which means I'll probably have to talk to their next in command. This could take a while," he said, huffing. The earth dragon shook his head. "You two should go to the Academy now."

Spyro and Cynder nodded their assent to the King. He smiled warmly at them, the familiar twinkle back in his eye.

"Spyro? Cynder?" He called after them. "Thank you," he said.

"Damn. Looks like we won't get that walk we wanted," Spyro sighed, looking at the clock. "We've only got fifteen minutes."

"It's fine, Spyro. We can always do it some other time," Cynder said, walking to the door, her mate beside her.

"If there is another time," Spyro said. Cynder blinked; she never thought her mate could be a pessimist. As she opened the door, she faced the purple dragon.

"Is something wrong, Spyro?"

"No. I'm just…" the purple dragon let out a sigh, breathing in the crisp air of Warfang. "I thought we were done with war and fighting when we defeated Malefor."

"War and fighting are constants, Spyro. There's nothing that can be done to stop it, only forestall it," Cynder said. Spyro turned to his mate, an eyeridge raised.

"When did you turn into a dragon philosopher?" he chuckled. Cynder smirked.

"Ignitus has always had great wisdom, Spy," she told him.

"Well, let's go. We've got classes to teach," Spyro told his mate. She nodded, and the two walked out of the house and into the cool morning air of Avalar.

It was also possible that this could be the last time they would ever see the city this peaceful.

"What do you think is going on in Imura, Spy?" Cynder asked, glancing over at her mate. Her voice was laced with worry.

"I don't know," Spyro said forlornly. He stared straight ahead, but his mind was elsewhere. Thoughts of this new enemy and what it represented swirled in his head.

"I hope this doesn't have anything to do with that feeling you got two weeks ago," Cynder said. Spyro looked over at her, having heard her voice but not her words.

"Hmm?"

"I hope that this wasn't what gave you that feeling two weeks ago," Cynder repeated to her mate. Spyro turned back to looking at the horizon.

"I pray that this is blows over quickly," he said. "United as we are, Aslore can't take another war."

"I hope so too, honey," Cynder turned her gaze towards the quickly approaching Academy. "I hope so too."

But deep in their hearts, they knew that something otherworldly was coming to Aslore. Something sinister. Something powerful enough to blind even the Gods from what it was doing.

And there was nothing they could do to stop it.

* * *

Gecus 19th, Season of Fire, Year 30, 77th Age

Dyros' Throne Room, Los, Velorum System

Unknown time

"Are we ready for the meeting?" a large, golden dragon asked aloud, his deep voice resonating within the room. He looked out across the blackness of space to Aslore as a dragoness behind him shut the large chamber doors.

"I have sent the summons to the others. They should be here within the day," came the reply, in the silky and calming voice only Atia possessed.

The stars twinkled against the backdrop of space, tiny pinpricks of light in the vast sea of darkness. But like all good things, those stars would eventually die, and the darkness would reign again.

Light thinks it travels faster than anything but it is wrong. No matter how fast light travels, it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it.

Aslore was that light, thinking that it would be able to reach a place before the darkness could follow. But it was wrong, and now the Tide was going to kill and consume them all.

The golden dragon sighed and ran a gigantic paw down his head fins. "Why didn't I call this meeting two weeks ago?" he asked himself.

"The Tide clouded our minds and blocked us from contacting the others with its terrible powers. I don't recall it being this strong during our fight all those years ago." Atia explained, walking across the fiery yellow tiles of the room.

"Besides, what could we have done, Dyros? Aside from giving our followers more power," the blue, black, and white dragon asked the golden one. "Our power is nothing to the Tide. We could destroy those it has corrupted, yes, but that would mean the destruction of the world."

The Goddess came up to the side of the sun God, whose gaze was aimed out into the inky blackness of space. Very few from Aslore ever saw a sight like this. Though the Gods and Goddesses of this Realm were powerful, space had a way of making even them feel small and insignificant. Sure, they could move planets and stars about at will, but the forces of the universe, magic or not, were not bound to the Gods.

In a way, it was just like the enemy they faced.

"The other deities are not going to be pleased about this," Dyros snapped Atia out of her thoughts. Looking over at him, she found that he still stared out of the large windows that revealed everything beyond the safety of the sun. His gaze shifted to the world of Aslore below. "They're going to want answers, some of which we either don't know or can't tell them."

"We'll find a way Dyros. I'm sure most of them will understand," Atia's eyes trailed up her mates body, a confident look in her eye. "Besides, what reason would they have to go against the Sun God?"

If there was one God feared above all else, it would be Dyros. He was the God of light, earth, fire, and electricity, and dragons using those elements could trace their roots back to him.

Dyros was the largest of the Gods. Gold scales, the edges tinged with red, coated his body, and he seemed to radiate with the power of the sun. Glowing white markings pulsed over his body.

Four large, red horns grew from the back of his skull, and beneath them his neck frills grew fiery red. A series of red and yellow fins, each one looking like a stylized ray of sunlight, traveled down his back and tail.

The frill at the end of his tail was wreathed in flame, hotter than the sun and endlessly burning. The frill itself was very similar to the tail blades of fire dragons, but had elements of the sun to it.

There was no membrane between his orange wings, but a red fire that occasionally flickered in the light. He had no wingblades, replaced by thumb reminiscent of ancient dragons.

Golden ceremonial armor covered his body, with engravings of the sun and powerful runes etched into the blessed Adamantil. Several jewels, each cut to perfection by the greatest Magic crafters, rested in slots in the armor.

He looked every bit the powerful God the mortals of Aslore thought him to be. Looks and actual power, however, can be incredibly different.

"This meeting will go two ways: we either agree on the plan to save our planet, or we don't. Either way, I'm still going to have Spyro and Cynder send that message," Dyros said. He shifted his gaze to the moon Goddess next to him.

While Atia was not as large as her mate, she made it up with her beauty and quick mind. Her own scales were a swirl of dark blue and black, with patterns of glowing white markings covering her body. She gave off a calm and soothing feeling to those around her, which, combined with her endearing personality, made her the most requested mediator at meetings.

Like her mate, her wings had no membrane between the phalanges. Instead, the starry sky filled them, little dots of white filling the inky blackness between the bones of her wings. Her long formed into a crescent shape near the end, which glowed dark blue.

Seven white spikes crowned her head: six running down the side of her skull, and one on her forehead. They were pure white in color, and curved towards her back. Spines ran down her back to her tail, the same shade of white.

She wore her own ceremonial armor, colored white and blue and engraved with constellations, stars, and the moon. Black and blue gems were placed into slots on her armor, just like Dyros. Her armor was much more curvaceous and thin than her mates, due to her smaller body.

Wind, water, ice, and dark dragons were the descendants of Atia. She commanded the stars and moon, and promised mercy to those who did wrong.

The Goddess turned to her mate, deep blue eyes gazing into fiery orange ones. "It will all work out in the end, dear."

Together, the two Gods gazed out the window and into the blackness beyond, hoping that their Realm would not fall to their worst enemy.

* * *

Gecus 19th, Season of Fire, Year 30, 77th Age

Warfang Academy, Academy District, Warfang

3:03 PM

"...and that is why Convexity is so important in keeping our Realm in balance," Spyro told his class. The thirty-odd dragons and dragonesses in the room nodded at the Guardian, jotting down notes on their scrolls.

All of the dragons in the room, excluding Spyro, had purple and black shimmering scales. Markings and symbols covered their bodies, allowing the dragons the ability to wield the mysterious element of Convexity.

They were a new type of dragon, one never seen before on Aslore. The Guardians believed that the effects of Spyro rebuilding the planet were not only limited to the earth, but to magical creatures as well. These dragons could control both fury and convexity energy, evidenced by their black and purple coloring.

Those in the class were quite young, all of them twelve years old. They were born in the most recent year of the dragon, imbuing them with strength greater than most other dragons.

The dragons had only just arrived in Warfang two months ago, right as the spring semester of classes ended. Upon discovering their unusual elemental abilities, the Guardians decided to immediately enroll them in summer classes.

Good thing too, Spyro thought as the young ones finished up writing their notes. We could've had thirty Malefor's running around the world if they hadn't come to us.

"Now, are there any questions?" Spyro asked the class, finding all eyes were trained on him. The young dragons seemed to hesitate, before a female Beast maker raised her hand.

"Raziel?" Spyro called on the dragoness.

"Why is Convexity such a feared element, master? If it's so powerful, why don't we use it everyday?"

Spyro's eyeridges raised at the unexpected question. He smiled, realizing that he could teach the entire class about one of the most important aspects of wielding Convexity.

"That is a great question. Class, prepare to take some more notes. Raziel just brought up something everyone must know," he instructed, erasing the magic ink off the noteboard.

A few dragons shot Raziel glares for causing them to take more notes, but she grinned at the praise Spyro gave her. Spyro turned to face his students.

"As we just learned, Convexity is more than just an element. It's both a gateway to Realms, and the embodiment of our thoughts and emotions. Convexity can be tamed to be used for everyday objects, such as the portals that connect the kingdoms of the world."

Spyro drew an image of the portal network, a Convexity gateway, and a thought bubble.

"However, Convexity can also be used as a power. And if you aren't careful, the consequences of using it improperly can be… devastating," the purple dragon explained. Eyes widened at Spyro's tone and words as the purple dragon drew a dragon being consumed by Convexity.

"There has always been a fear of using Convexity as an element, and rightly so. Yes, it grants unimaginable power to those who use it. Yes, Convexity can allow you to defeat entire armies in a single blast." Heads turned and students grinned at the thought.

"However, if you are not careful, then it won't be you who is using Convexity. It will be Convexity using you," Spyro said, noticing the confused looks on most of the students.

"What do you mean, Spyro?" another student asked.

"When you use Convexity, it draws its power not from your mana reserves, but from your mind and soul. Your emotions, thoughts, and ideas give it strength and form," he told them, drawing several images of Convexity being used in various ways.

"Being at peace or having emotions of happiness or love will allow you to easily control and manipulate Convexity," he said, the fond memory of repairing the world using his love of Cynder coming to mind. "However, emotions such as anger, rage, or hate will cause Convexity to fluctuate and cease being under your control. It will whisper to you, promising untold amounts of power if you give in to your base desires."

Spyro could see the fear in his students eyes as the drawing of a corrupted dragon came to life. It was Malefor in his corrupted form, wielding Convexity against a city.

"When you give in, it takes you over, and uses you for it's own purposes. You'll find yourself wanting more and more power, and you won't let anything get in your way," he told the class. None of them knew that he spoke from experience, when he himself had been taken over by Convexity and forced to do it's evil will.

Thankfully, Cynder had been there every time to snap him out of his Dark Form and return him to normal. And speaking of Dark Forms...

"Has anyone ever heard of a Dark Form before?" he asked the class. A few students raised their hands, while the rest sat there, looking confused.

The purple dragon looked over at one of the dragons raising his hands. It was Barioth, one of the few Dream weavers in his class. He smiled at the dragon, and nodded in his direction.

"Barioth, what is a Dark Form?" Spyro asked.

Barioth gave a slight bow to the Guardian before saying telepathically, "Dark Forms are when Convexity takes over your body and soul, corrupting it and turning you into a being who only wants more power."

Spyro nodded. "That is correct Barioth. Everyone, please write that down in your notes. It is important to know what Dark Forms are, as we will be covering them soon."

He let the kids jot down their notes, while adding "Dark Forms" to his lesson planner. He would have to come up with a way to teach the students how to break out of Dark Forms by themselves, which was easier said than done.

"Um, master Spyro?" a student called. Spyro looked up from his desk to see Myral, a male Magic crafter, raising his hand.

"Yes, Myral?"

"Are dragons the only species on Aslore that can use Convexity?" Myral asked. Spyro shook his head.

"Anyone can use Convexity, due to it's unique properties. It can be wielded with magic, manipulated as an element, and act as a gateway," Spyro explained. "So, the answer to your question would be yes, anyone can use it, but the way it's used varies from person to person.

Spyro saw another hand shoot up in one of the back rows, belonging to a Peace keeper. "What's your question, Cyric?"

"Have you ever used Convexity before, master?" the young drake asked, earning a nod from Spyro. A couple students gasped- young dragons and their obsession with big powers, Spyro thought -and stared at the dragon with wide eyes.

"I have used Convexity many times before, from using it to fight Malefor to rebuilding the planet. It can be a very difficult element to master, but once you do, it is the most powerful and useful ally you could ever have," Spyro said. Without moving his body, he conjured up a small purple dragon, made entirely out of Convexity energy.

The phantom dragon flew around the room, earning oohs and ahhs from the students. It spun around several times, releasing sparks of purple energy that quickly dissipated. The dragon returned to Spyro, where he dispelled it, causing the conjuration to vanish.

"Now, are there any further questions?" Spyro asked his class. Their questions and his answers were important for both him and the class.

He looked around the room, but didn't see any hands raised. He was about to move on, when a hand quickly shot up.

"I have one, master Spyro," a young dragoness said. Spyro followed the voice to see Stormra, a usually timid and quiet Artisan, raising her hand. Spyro nodded at her.

"Do you have a Dark Form?" she asked. Spyro's eyeridges raised, thrown off by the question. He could answer the question truthfully, but that would reveal more about himself than he would like. He could lie to them, but lying was something that never sat right with him.

Spyro shifted unsteadily on his feet, uncomfortable at the question, and opened his mouth to answer in a half-truth.

BRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNG!

The bell rang loudly through the room, signalling the end of the school day. Students started packing up, writing down last minute notes in their notebooks and planners.

"I will answer Stormra's question tomorrow in class. Your homework for tonight is to do the questions in chapter four, section three in your book. I'll see all of you tomorrow," Spyro said to his students. They waved and smiled as they departed.

He packed up his own materials, happy that the day was over. All he had to do now was gather the other Guardians and head fly over to the King's Court. With any luck, Tremor was able to get in contact with the other Kingdoms, and they could plan how to fight this mysterious new foe.

It would be nice if we just knew what was going on, Spyro thought worriedly as he placed his lesson planner into his bag.

The bag vibrated right as Spyro was about to close the clasp. Frowning, he opened up the flap and pulled out the vibrating object: his personal comm-crystal. He pressed one of the sides, and the crystal raised into the air. There was no video this time, only audio.

"Hello?" he asked.

"Spyro? It's Tremor," the king's voice came through the crystal.

"Oh, Tremor! I was about to go get the Guardians and head over to the Spire.".

"Good. Bring Hunter along, and come as quickly as possible. We found out why the Imuran leaders never showed up, and it's not good," he said urgently.

"Is there something wrong?" the purple dragon asked.

"There have been some developments with trying to contact the other kingdoms, and they aren't good. I'll explain everything when you get here."

Spyro frowned, feeling his heart sink at the words. Gods, please don't let us be too late, he thought.

"Alright. I'm getting the others now, and we should be there within fifteen minutes," he said to the King.

"Please hurry. We don't have much time," Tremor said.

"Good." Tremor closed the call. Spyro could feel panic rise up in him as questions about what was going on began rushing through his head. What did Tremor mean by not having much time?

The purple dragon teleported to the doorway of the conference room on the other side of the school, startling a group of teen anthros.

Spyro flashed them a serious grin before stepping inside into the conference room. Most of the Guardians were already inside, with Kindle, Volteer, and Cynder the only ones not present. Hunter was inside as well.

Spyro turned to the present Guardians. "Once Cynder, Volteer, and Kindle show up, we'll head over to the Spire. King Tremor said he made a breakthrough with contacting the other kingdoms, but it does not sound good."

The Guardians nodded, worry etched onto their faces. Spyro had told them the situation this morning when he and Cynder arrived, and all of them were shocked at the news. The rest of the day had been nothing but torture for the Guardians as they waited for news from Tremor.

"Hunter?" Spyro called out. The aged cheetah dropped his cup of water, startled. He cursed under his breath as he bent down to pick up his things.

"Yes, Spyro?" the hunting teacher responded in an annoyed tone.

"King Tremor is requesting your appearance at the war assembly in fifteen minutes. He didn't say why, but I assume he wants you to know," Spyro told the feline. Hunter looked over at the purple dragon, his eyes narrowing.

"A war assembly? What for?" Hunter asked. The Guardians glanced at each other, slightly amused. Did Hunter not hear them just talking about what was going on?

"You should get your ears checked, you old feline. We were just talking about it," Terroric said.

"Long story short, Tremor's lost contact with some of the other Kingdoms. He's calling a war assembly because of how mysterious the circumstances are," Lumar told Hunter, shooting Terroric a menacing look.

Terroric looked away as Hunter nodded at Spyro. "Guess I have no choice," he sighed, putting his bag on the table. "But considering I don't have wings, can I ride on one of your guys' backs?"

"You're light enough to ride on my back," Terrador said to Hunter. The feline gave him a questioning look.

"Are you sure?" he asked. Terrador simply nodded.

"I don't mind. Besides, it's not too far of a flight," the Earth Guardian stated. Hunter smiled, and threw his bag over his back.

Cynder burst suddenly into the room, startling the Guardians inside. Kindle and Volteer appeared behind her, and the three quickly filed into the room.

"Cynder! Thank the Gods you just got here! Tremor called me a few minutes ago, saying that there were developments with contacting the other kingdoms," Spyro said to his mate.

"Did he say what the developments were?" Cynder asked. Spyro shook his head.

"No, only that that we need to be at the Spire in ten minutes, and that there's not much time left, or whatever that means," Spyro said to the assembled group. The thirteen Guardians nodded.

"Then what are we waiting for?" Volteer asked, a grin on his face.

The dragons and cheetah quickly departed for the Spire, unable to to anticipate the events that lay before them.

* * *

Gecus 19th, Season of Fire, Year 30, 77th Age

Osares Throne Room, Osares, Imura

Unknown Time

"What are your orders, sir?"

The figure in the cloak turned to see Guzluhn, one of the greatest corrupted demons in service to the Tide, kneeling before it. His entourage of corrupted Aslorians stood behind him, their new armor shining in the magic light of the Imuran throne room.

The figure smiled beneath its cloak, white teeth stretched into a grin against the blackness underneath its hood. It's twin red eyes glowed menacingly beneath the hood, sending chills down Guzluhn spine. Reality distorted itself as the figure spoke.

"Break into the King's Court, and kill everyone you see," it commanded, bringing up an image of the King's Court Spire. "Leave none alive." It turned away from the demon and continued to look through the large crystal sphere that dominated one side of the room.

"By your command, Deceiver," Guzluhn said, placing a four-fingered hand over his armor.

There was a pause before the figure let out a horrendous, demonic roar and slashed at the corrupted demons face with a taloned hand. The demon cried out in pain as the terrible energies imbued into the claws seeped into the wound. They twisted and curled beneath the demons skin, leeching into his soul and causing Guzluhn agonizing pain.

"Only our Lord may call me that," the figure said icily, letting out a low hiss as it crouched down to the demons level. "You are not worthy of using the name."

The figure grabbed the demon's throat in one paw and lifted him up into the air. The demons entourage took a step forward, but stopped when the figure raised a paw. Guzluhn gasped for breath, struggling to remove the hand from around its neck.

"If I ever hear you use that name again, you will find out just what the meaning of the word 'pain' truly is," it said, squeezing the life out of the demon in its grasp.

"Yes, sir," Guzluhn gasped, the fingers around his neck squeezing harder. He started to black out, his demonic biology overwritten by the figure holding him. The red eyes narrowed into thin slits as they bore into his own, and he felt afraid at the power of the creature.

"Be gone from my sight," it commanded, roughly dropping Guzluhn onto the ground. The demon gasped as air rushed into his lungs, and placed a hand where the figure choked him.

The figure turned away from Guzluhn and walked over to the crystal globe on the other side of the room. Not wanting to provoke the ire of the powerful figure, the demon quickly looked over at his small group and nodded. They teleported away to the heart of Warfang, eager to carry out their mission.

Now alone, the figure walked around the throne room of Osares, the homeland of the Dream weavers. Here the king and queen governed all of Imura, from the Adalisks and fairies to the Dream weavers and Ammitsha.

A pity that the two now lay dead at the feet of the figure, heads separated from torn apart bodies. Their blood and entrails coated the floor, and the Deceiver laughed gleefully. They were not that hard to kill, even with all their magical and elemental power. The survivors were sent fleeing, but with the portal network down, it had been a massive slaughter. At least three quarters of the Imuran population, including all the various species of dragon, was dead.

Some were left alive, so that when those idiotic Gods brought the portal network back up they could spread the story to the rest of this pathetic world. Others had fled over the side of the floating continent, in the hope that they could reach land and alert the other kingdoms.

Looking out the window of the throne room it could see the bodies of citizens piling the streets. The roads ran red with blood from the corpses, many of which were either torn apart or blown up. Limbs and organs littered the streets, which delighted the rodents that came to infest Osares.

The Deceiver had seen scenes like this many times before, and each time found it more glorious than the last. It was the image of a world about to be taken over and destroyed, where neither pity nor mercy were given.

The figure walked around the throne room, glancing at the paintings dotting the walls. They depicted historic moments of Imura, from the lifting of the continent into the sky to the uniting of the dragon races that called it home. They were pieces of wonder, inciting awe into those who gazed upon them.

To the Deceiver, they only evoked anger and disgust. Not only was there no reason for it exist, it was downright ugly.

Art. What a worthless thing, the Deceiver thought. It is nothing but the pointless, idiotic dreams of inferior creatures. In the end, it serves no purpose.

It slashed at the canvas with razor-sharp claws, slicing the material into thin strips that floated onto the floor. It continued this around the room, staring at the various paintings and glass sculptures before destroying them.

What use was history and art if there was no one to see it?

There was a crackling sound as someone teleported into the room. The figure could tell who it was without turning around, and simply continued to walk around the room.

"What do you have to report, Zarael?" the Deceiver asked. The anthro dragon in question kneeled as it spoke, bladed tail stabbing into the ground.

"We have done what you have requested, General. Our forces have secretly surrounded all the cities but Warfang, and are waiting for your command to invade," he said. His tail flicked behind him, as he was still getting used to the additions to the appendage.

The Deceiver grinned and turned to the white and gold dragon. His eyes were blood red, a far cry from the original blue, and a gray aura floated around him. This dragon was one of the first to be corrupted by the Deceiver, only days after that purple whelp and black dragoness bitch returned to Warfang.

"Excellent," the Deceiver said to its most loyal servant. It summoned a globe in the shape of Aslore, and traced its talons across the surface.

The Deceiver had been planning this attack for years as its master dealt with other Realms. In one fell swoop, the leaders of this world would be killed, and the survivors would be helpless against the Tide. They would cling to the hope that someone would come and save them, only for that hope to be crushed in the end.

It was a cruel and twisted plan, but the Deceiver cared not. It operated just like his name: deceiving those into believing they were safe, when in reality there was nothing protecting them.

The Deceiver turned to Zarael, grinning beneath its cowl. While other beings would be horrified at the face, Zarael simply mets its gaze with his own.

"Begin the invasions. When they fall, watch Warfang until it is at the highest point of morale. You will strike then, eliminating those in command of the city," the figure said, glee dripping off every word.

"But my lord, isn't Guzluhn supposed to destroy the leadership?" the dragon asked. The Deceiver snarled at the mention of the demons name.

"He will fail. That purple dragon and his mate are in the Spire as we speak. The demon has no idea what awaits him," the Deceiver told the dragon, staring at the crystal globe.

"Then how do you plan on killing the leadership of Warfang?" Zarael asked.

The Deceiver turned back to Zarael, a wide grin on his face. If anyone but his master or Zarael asked him that question, they would be dead instantly.

"I have an idea that will work as I intend. However, it can only be put into motion once there are a large influx of refugees into Warfang," the Deceiver said as it lightly traced its fingers down the granite wall, leaving deep gouges in the stone. Zarael grinned as he caught onto the Deceivers meaning.

"I'll take my leave then," the corrupted dragon said with a bow. There was a flash of light and a smell of ozone as Zarael teleported out of the room to lead the troops.

The Deceiver stared into the large crystal ball that filled a side of the room. Energies of all kinds, demonic, blessed, standard, chaotic, and thousands of others swirled inside, just waiting to be unleashed.

The Deceiver laid a hand on the crystal, feeling the immense power within. It would be able to use it soon, when Warfang fell and its master was ready to take this universe for itself. Waves of dark energy rolled off the figure as it laughed.

"Soon, the only thing left on this world will be ash. After this universe falls to us, there will be nothing to stop the Tide from corrupting every universe in existence!"

* * *

Gecus 19th, Season of Fire, Year 30, 77th Age

Court Spire, Inner City, Warfang

3:34 PM

Flame huffed as he patiently waited for the Guardians to arrive, curls of black smoke escaping from his nostrils. He was annoyed of having to sit and wait for over an hour with nothing to do in the Courtroom, bored out of his mind.

The fire drake glanced over at the ornate clock hanging on one of the walls. It read 3:34, four minutes after the assembly was supposed to have started, if it weren't for the Guardians deciding to take their sweet time. Tremor had called the Guardians fifteen minutes ago and told them to hurry, and yet they were still late.

Flame sighed as he traced a talon over the design on one of his foreleg bracers. Waiting had never been one of his strong suits. It was ironic, with generals having to be some of the most patient people in the world, and yet he somehow could not stand waiting for something that should have already started.

But the Guardians should never be late! They are some of the most important members in society, and yet act like hatchlings at times!

Flame knew that being angry at the Guardians for such a minor offense, especially when they were only late by a few minutes, was not worth it. He could be using.

The fire drake sighed internally. He didn't have a very good feeling about this meeting. Not because he felt like it was pointless, but because it was highly likely that they would come under attack. Contact lost with the other kingdoms, and a large number of leaders and representatives all concentrated in one area?

The whole situation reeked of something fishy. There was an overarching plot here, Flame just knew. Those in the assembly were just asking to be attacked, as anyone using simple logic could figure out.

Which was why Flame had prepared for an attack the moment he had been called to the assembly.

The general scanned the room again. All the councilors were here and in their seats, the king and queen were sitting on their thrones, and the representatives of a few kingdoms that had not returned to their homeland were sitting as well.

Flame smiled as his eyes rested on the various guards and military officials in the room. Some of the best warriors and soldiers were in the room, ready to defend the various leaders with their lives. If anyone tried to break into the room, they would find a force to be reckoned with.

The King's Guard, composed of the greatest dragon warriors in Warfang, stood around the throne, as silent and still as statues. Their enchanted, golden armor gleamed in the sunlight coming through the roof, shining them in radial brilliance. Their spears stood tall and proud by their sides, the edges sharp enough to cut through even the strongest of armors.

While not as well-equipped and well-trained as the King's Guard, Flame's Guard were still some of the best soldiers around. They took their positions at the back of the room, red and white armor standing out against the blue walls. They held their elemental guns at the ready with their shields on their back and swords at the hip.

Out of the corner of his eye Flame saw Toothless approach him, clad in black armor. The comparatively small dragon sat down next to the general with a 'clink' as the metal made contact with the stone of the floor.

"What do you think we face, sir?" Toothless asked. Flame shrugged and sighed again as the clock ticked to 3:35.

Five minutes late…

"I don't know, Scout," Flame called Toothless by his position. "Whatever it is, it's strong enough to cut us off from every other kingdom in the world. Not even Malefor had that much power in him."

The two dragons sat there, watching as representatives talked amongst themselves as they waited.

"Do you think we can fight them?" the Night Fury asked. Flame shook his head.

"If they are able to isolate us from the rest of the world this easily, then we don't have much of a chance," Flame answered. Toothless turned his head and nodded, downcast at the fire dragons opinion.

Voices came from outside the room, and Flame looked over at the doors.

Moments later, the doors burst open as the Guardians and a cheetah entered the room. The group of dragons filed in, hurrying to their seats as Spyro and Cynder walked up to the front row.

"Sorry we're late," Spyro said to everyone in the room as he took his seat. "Air traffic around the Spire was somewhat hectic."

Tremor simply nodded, and went to take his seat on the throne next to his mate. As he sat down, he pressed a button on the chair, and there was a hum as the room suddenly began to change.

The room expanded, powerful dimensional-based magics increasing the size and height of the room by a large amount. Space was augmented and altered as the room became bigger on the inside, until it was nearly three hundred feet in diameter and about one hundred feet tall.

When the room was done changing, Tremor addressed the court. "Two hours ago, I received a message from Imura3."

Murmurs spread through the court as they took in the king's words. Spyro wondered how they knew that there hadn't been contact with the kingdom for almost a week, but figured that Tremor told them all about the situation before the War assembly.

"The message was garbled and broken, but we were able to fix it. What it reveals, however, is extremely concerning," Tremor said, and an image of Imura appeared at the base of the stairs.

"This is Fireflight from Imura! Can anyone hear me? We were attacked by something a couple days ago, and haven't been able to get in touch with anyone!" the voice yelled. The eyes of everyone in the room widened. "Our king and queen are dead, and the military has been overrun! Civilians are being slaughtered in the streets, and no-one-"

The message abruptly cut off, leaving a shocked and wide-eyed court silent. The Guardians looked at each other, worry expressed on all their faces.

What was strong enough to invade and nearly destroy Imura?

Tremor continued. "Only an hour ago, calls from other kingdoms were coming through the portals, but not people. All of them were saying something similar: their king and queen were dead, and no one knew how or why. And no matter how much I tried, I was unable to respond to their calls of distress."

"What does this mean, Tremor?" one of the councilors asked. Tremor stared at the drake.

"It means Warfang is cut off from the other kingdoms, and we are almost entirely in the dark about what's going on," he told the councilmen.

"These are the calls that came through," Moontear spoke up, and waved her paw at the ground in front of the seats. Four more portals appeared, each of them for the other kingdoms.

As soon as the portals opened, voices started streaming in.

"Help! Please! Can anyone here me? Something attack us; I don't know what, but people are starting to flee the city!"

"We need help right now! Our king and queen are dead, and we can't hold for much longer!"

"Cresshen has no leadership! Something killed our leaders, both military and political!"

The calls continued, echoing throughout the room. All of them were pleas and cried from help, and each one tore Spyro and Cynder's hearts.

No one knew what to do, as the horror of the situation began to rise. Every single Kingdom and continent of Aslore was being invaded, and no one could stop it.

"Your majesty, you need to give assistance to our kingdom! "

"No Tremor, we need military help!"

"BE QUIET!" Tremor yelled at the top of his lungs as the representatives of the foreign nations started shouting.

As the councilors and representatives talked and argued, Spyro felt an unusual magical tremor pass through the room. A weird feeling grew in the purple dragon's gut, one screaming to him that something was way off. Confused, Spyro quickly drowned out the yelling of the Court, and simply focused his hearing and touch on the room.

Finding nothing, Spyro spread out all his senses, both magical and elemental. He searched for any changes in the magical field, if Convexity was being manipulated,if the balance of dark and light was correct in Aslore, and a whole assortment of ranges.

He didn't find anything, and for a brief second thought that he was just being paranoid.

Wait…

Something was off in the space around Aslore.

There was something there, between the Realms, trying to enter Aslore. It was in limbo, between life and death, between thought and memory, in a place where not even Convexity had power.

Spyro retracted all his other senses, even his mortal ones, and focused entirely on this new entity. But as he tried to figure out what it was, it suddenly positions, now rapidly approaching him.

"Spyro?"

Spyro put all of his energy into discerning what the oddity was, and mentally chased the entity around the dimensional barriers of the Realm.

"Spyro!"

The purple dragon reached out and touched the entity…

…only to be pulled back into the real world as pain, hatred, and agony of a foreign being entered his mind. He yelled and clutched his head, and the entire room turned their eyes to him.

His eyes opened as wide as they could go as he finally figured out what the entity was trying to do. It wanted to be found, so that it could be led to it's target!

"We're about to be attacked!" Spyro quickly yelled to the group. He was too late, however, as the smell of burning air filled the room. There was a bright flash of light and a hellish smell as something teleported into the room.

A high-pitched scream came from the Throne, and the group turned to look in horror at a massive fist protruding from Moontear's chest. The Dream Weaver was tossed to the side of the room, where a large pool of blood formed around her.

Tremor yelled in anguish at the sight of his dead mate while the rest of the assembly stared at the creature that killed the queen. The two guards at the bottom of the throne leapt up to strike at the assailant with their elemental staves, but were cut down with a swing of a massive, clawed hand.

"What is that thing4!?" Flame cried, pointing an armored talon at the monster.

Stories about demons from other Realms or the depths of Hell were one thing. Seeing one in real life was a whole nother story.

The demon, at least thirty-five feet tall, easily towered over those in the room, and was covered in black, spiked armor. Black and red fur could be seen in spots where the armor didn't fully cover the monster's body. Two massive horns with glowing yellow runes etched into them jutted from the creature's head.

It had a canine-like muzzle, but its teeth were more of that of a dragons. A long, armored tail twitched behind it, covered in deadly spikes. Spiked gauntlets covered the demons arms, and wicked claws grew from its fingers.

The creature stepped of the platform, letting a dozen new figures warp onto it.

Two dragons, one a female Dream weaver and the other a male Artisan, flanked the demon, along with several other anthro creatures. Flame spotted a winged unicorn in the back, a couple avians, canines, and about a dozen or so orcs.

All of them had three distinct features: their eyes were glowing yellow, their bodies had an ashen, dark look to them, and a thick grey smoke constantly wafted from their bodies.

There were gasps from the Guardians and guards as they spotted the corrupted Aslorians. It would be unfortunate, but it seemed like there was no way the guards could avoid from killing the former citizens of various Kingdoms.

"Your souls will be consumed by the Tide!" the demon roared, and pointed at the King's Court. Instantly, the anthros pulled out elemental guns, swords, and shields, while the dragons armored themselves and began forming massive spheres of dark energy.

The demon warped two massive, double-headed axes into its large paws. Black energy coursed the length of the weapons, and reality seemed to become distorted wherever the blades went.

Spyro and Cynder immediately recognized the larger threat, and nodded to Flame. He, the Guardians, and the Guard would take care of the corrupted dragons and anthros, while Spyro and Cynder would take on the Demon.

The Demon roared and attacked the purple and black dragons, while its minions did the same to Flame's men. Several bolts of elemental energy flew from the lines of corrupted anthros, impacting against the shields the Guards carried.

As the anthros charged, Flame turned back to Toothless. "Toothless, get the V.I.P.'s out of here and get help!" Bolts of elemental energy began to fly over their heads as the anthros with guns began firing at Tremor and the counselors. Flame's Guard brought up the shields and quickly formed a defensive line in front of the group.

"Yes sir!" Toothless replied, and quickly turned to the king. "Follow me!" he said to Tremor, who nodded. Toothless and several other guards escorted them out of the court room and into the hallway, right as the wave of corrupted anthros hit the magical barriers of Flame's Guard.

The sounds of swords and elemental bolts of energy crashing against enchanted reached Toothless ears. Roars and screeches flew down the hall, and Toothless sent a quick prayer to the Gods to keep his friends safe.

Back in the courtroom, Flame let out a loud roar and sheathed his claws in white-hot fire, doing the same with his tail and wings. The Guardians were with him, summoning elemental armor and weapons as they combatted their corrupted brethren.

Two Guards screamed as they fell to demonic blades and elemental guns, their enchanted armor doing little to stop the attacks. Blood spurted from the wounds as otherworldly energies ate into their bodies and souls.

Those of Flame's soldiers with elemental weaponry began firing into the group of corrupted Aslorians, and bodies began hitting the ground

More creatures began teleporting into the room, all of them corrupted. Flame spared a glance over at the platform, and spotted several gryphons a couple nymphs, several cheetahs, and, to his great dismay, a couple Night Furies.

Flame quickly tore his gaze away and focused back to the fight at hand.

As Flame, his Guard, and the Guardians fought the horde of corrupted Aslorians, Spyro and Cynder faced off against the massive demon.

Spyro dashed to the side as a serrated axe struck the ground he just stood on. White-hot flames shot out of his mouth and struck the gauntlet of the demonic canine. It only chuckled as the fire danced over the gauntlet, doing no visible damage.

Spyro was mildly surprised at the creatures invulnerability to an element, but didn't let it show. He had faced enemies like this before; all he had to do was find the one element that harmed it and focus on that.

Cynder, having flanked around the corrupted creature, leapt up onto it's back, claws sheathed in shadow energy. She dug the sharp talons into the armor of the demon's back, completely bypassing it and penetrating the skin below. The dragoness raked her claws across Guzluhn's back, opening up massive wounds that poured blood.

The demon roared in agony and quickly shook his back. Cynder did her best to hold on, but jumped off as a sharp tail rose up to strike her. Landing on the stone floor, she immediately dodged out of the way of an incoming axe, missing her by inches.

The demon charged towards her, only to be launched against a wall by a powerful earth shot, courtesy of Spyro.

Corrupted Aslorians were now rapidly teleporting into the room, driving the Guard forces further back into the room.

"Everyone move towards the exit and form a shield line!" Flame ordered, stabbing his sword into a corrupted equine and yanking upwards. The horse gurgled as it was sliced in two, copious amounts of blood and guts spilling out of its body.

Flame, his Guard, and the Guardians were doing the best they could against the Tide of demented beings..

Bolts of elemental energy flew through the air and hit several corrupted anthros, burning large holes in their bodies and exposing their internals to the air.

Enchanted blades cut through flimsy armor, and hot blood washed onto the floor as bodies were cut clean in two.

Flame let loose a blast of white-hot fire from his mouth, burning an attacking canine to ash. A corrupted rat tried to sneak up from behind, but only received a glob of lava to the face as a result.

Looking around, Flame could see the Guardians were holding their own. Though they were meant to be peace-bringers, the Guardians were actually some of the greatest fighters in the world.

Kindle was roasting a group of three corrupted felines with her white-hot fire breath, and Volteer was literally vaporizing enemies with powerful arcs of electricity. Cyril froze enemies solid before smashing them apart into bloody chunks.

Toxicar melted the legs off two charging avians, who only looked down in horror as blood began rushing out of their body, before finishing them off by crushing their skulls with her teeth and paws. A powerful gust of wind slammed several corrupted Aslorians against a wall, and a series of cracks were heard as their spines broke.

But the Tide kept coming, and every wave brought fresh casualties to the guards.

A Guard screamed in pain as a cloud of dark energy enveloped his body, shredding his body to pieces. Blood began oozing from underneath the cloud, and there was a sickening 'thud' as the ravaged body fell to the ground, lifeless.

Another was unable to dodge a blade as it swung towards her, cleanly decapitating her and sending her head to the floor. Blood spurted from the stump of the head as her body fell to the ground.

A bolt of corrupted fire from an elemental gun blew a large hole in another Guard's chest, revealing his innards and igniting the fur around his torso. He let out a choked scream before collapsing to the ground, dead.

Flame paid no attention to his dying Guards as the corrupted Aslorians continued to attack him and the Guardians.

"Spyro, you need to kill that thing now! We can't take much more of this!" Flame yelled, parrying the swipe of a cursed blade with his fire claws.

"We're doing the best we can!" Spyro yelled back, "But this guy just won't go down!"

Channeling much of his light energy onto his right paw, Spyro rose up and slashed his claws across the demons chest, creating deep gouges in the armor and skin beneath. The places where he struck glowed white with energy, as the light coursed into the demon. The creature from hell howled in pain, clutching and grasping at it's chest as the energy of light began burning it inside out.

"Cynder, now!" Spyro yelled as the demon tried to stand, grasping a large axe in it's paw.

Quick as lightning, Cynder dashed forward, dodging the swing of the axe. She could hear the axe sing as it cut through empty air, and Cynder was grateful.

Charging forward, Cynder focused pure fury energy onto her tailblade, the appendage quickly taking on a purple sheen. The demon snarled as the dragoness dodged it's meaty hand, and spun around, plunging her tailblade into one of the holes on the demons chest.

An otherworldly screech emanated from the Demon as the fury energy began destroying the corruption, and with it, the body. Those in the room covered their ears, trying to block out the sound and the pain it brought.

Cynder yanked her tail out as the corrupted demon began to fall forward, destructive energy coursing through its body. Pieces of it began flaking off into the air and disintegrating, first one at a time before cascading until there was nothing left.

The corrupted Aslorians suddenly cried out in pain and clutched their heads, dropping their weapons in the process. Several of them were killed by more energy bolts, but to the surprise and horror of everyone in the room, their heads simply began popping.

* * *

Unknown Date

Unknown Location

Unknown Time

"Your plan worked to perfection, my liege," the cloaked figure said to the sphere in its hands. "The Gods and leaders of this world have had their minds clouded, keeping them from noticing as their lands began falling to us. As we speak, my troops are destroying the kingdoms of this world."

"And the leaders of Warfang?"

"They are alive, just like you wanted. That fool Guzluhn thought he could face the purple whelp and live; he was proved entirely wrong," the Deceiver told its leader.

"Excellent, most excellent," the presence within the sphere chuckled darkly. "Continue our conquest of this planet, and let most of the survivors flee to Warfang. We will let them think they have a chance in 'the greatest city in the world'. They will believe Warfang is a safe haven, when in reality, that city will become their tomb."

"Do you have any further orders?" the figure rasped, its tail twitching in excitement. Planetary conquest was exhilarating!

"Once you are certain Warfang has fallen, prepare a portal for my arrival. I will deal with the weak Gods that call this Realm home personally," was the reply. The figure bowed at the request.

"As you command, my lord," the Deceiver said, closing the connection. It grinned as it looked around the Grand Temple, the corpses of almost a thousand Aslorians lining the ground. Few Tide soldiers and corrupted creatures fell to the inhabitants of Hefors, who were entirely unprepared for an attack such as this.

Scenes such as this were being repeated all across Aslore, on every continent and in nearly every kingdom. This world was no where near prepared enough for the horror that was the Tide.

The Deceiver looked upwards to the ceiling, spotting the large holes made for Tide forces to enter. The sky was turning orange, not from the time of day but from the smoke and fires raging across the city of Rorark.

Looking through the large, open doors at one end of the room, the figure could see buildings toppling and large explosions of corruption energy off in the distance. The screams of dying creatures were music to its ears, and it laughed in joy.

It walked through the room, stepping on various bodies and watching in glee as bones were broken, flesh was torn, and blood and entrails squirted out of the bodies. The ground was a sea of red, with corpses strewn about.

Crouching down, the figure stared into the cold dead eyes of a dead dream weaver. Just like all other dragons, it was exceptionally ugly, but this species took the cake. Like all dream weavers, it had no pupils, no mouth, with various symbols covering it's body. Fur and feathers grew alongside scales and leathery membrane, and its soft tail was slightly splayed out at the tip.

Deciding that it had enough staring into the face of the dead dragon, the figure snarled and lifted up a fist before driving it into the head of the corpse. The dream weaver's head simply exploded into a mess of blood, bone shards, and brain matter.

It grinned again as it realized another thing about the species of this world: they were incredibly weak, and easy to break.

The Deceiver heard a weak gasp coming from one of the presumed corpses. The grin fell from its face at the sound, and it quickly stood up, looking around for whatever made the noise.

The figure took a step forward and spotted a dragon hatchling still alive. It was still breathing, but appeared to be having trouble if the irregular movements of its chest were any indication. If the Deceiver had been another dragon, it would have gone out of its way to help.

So that's exactly what the figure did as it taking on the form of a large black dragon and stepping towards the child. The hatchling feebly attempted to raise its head, but only got far enough to look at the new dragon's knees.

"Please…" the child whimpered as it held it's stomach. Looking closer, the Deceiver noticed that there was a long, deep cut running from it's ribcage to its lower belly. Blood gushed through the child's fingers and quickly pooled around their body. "Help me."

"Shh," the Deceiver shushed the child, it's voice perfectly imitating that of a mother dragoness. It reached down with a claw and traced along the edges of scales on the young one's chin. "You'll be fine."

"I don't want to die," the white and green hatchling begged. Tears spilled down the sides of its muzzle as it cried, the pool of blood still growing. The Deceiver did nothing but stare at the pitifully weak thing lying on the ground.

"Where's my mommy?" the child sobbed hysterically. The loss of blood was getting to the young dragon's head, and it began to start blacking out. The Deceiver, deciding to extend the misery of the hatchling, channeled a miniscule amount of electricity into the child.

The child cried out in agonizing pain as it felt the shock from the false dragon travel through its body. It jerked and spasmed from the intense energy, which only served to aggravate its wounds. "I want my mommy!" it cried when the Deceiver lifted its paw.

The hatchling's scales were burned and darkened, and the smell of burning flesh and membrane filled the air. The membrane between the child's wings were completely burned away, exposing charred bones to the cold air.

"Everything will be alright," the figure said in as gentle and malevolent a tone as possible. The hatchling whimpered in pain from its injuries, but the false dragon could not care in the slightest.

With one hand, the Deceiver lifted the child up by the skull and into the air. The blue and white hatchling cried out in agony as the false dragon raised it until it was looking the terrifying being in the eyes.

"Everything will turn out to be just fine," the Deceiver cooed. There was a gasp and a high-pitched scream as it squeezed its hand, crushing the small dragons skull into tiny shards. The Deceiver laughed as it felt the remnants of the hatchlings brain squish between its fingers, and unceremoniously dropped the body to the ground.

The Deceiver howled in joy at such a wonderful kill, watching as smoke continued to rise off the body of the corpse. It shifted back to its bipedal form, giving the body a kick for good measure.

It 'accidentally' put too much power into the kick, and the child was now nothing more than a pink smear across the ground. Chuckling darkly, the Deceiver made its way out of the room and back into the city, taking the time to step on any any body it came across.

Everything was falling right into place. In less than a month, this world would be dead, along with everybody on it.

* * *

The Guardians and guards watched as the body of the demon fully faded away. The corpses of the corrupted Aslorians remained on the ground as the ashen gray smoke surrounding their bodies vanished.

The room was filled with silence, broken only by the heavy breathing of the Guardians and soldiers, and punctuated with the occasional drip of blood falling to the floor.

As the adrenaline began to wear off, shock and horror rushed to fill the void: they had just killed their own people.

Granted, the Aslorians had been corrupted by an otherworldly entity, but everyone, especially the Guardians, had sworn to keep everyone on the planet safe from threats such as this.

Several guards nearly broke down into tears at the realization of what they just did. Having to kill your own species was never fun, but having to kill innocent people that were corrupted by something beyond your knowledge?

Everyone would be having nightmares from this.

As the soldiers tended to their wounded, the Guardians checked the room for any remaining enemies. Thankfully, they found none, but the dragons were able to get a sense of the damage in the attack.

Blood and gore covered the ground and walls, partially painting the room a deep red. Portions of the tile floor were cracked, charred, nicked, or broken from the fighting. The seats were shattered and torn, remnants having been flung all around the room.

The Guardians quickly came upon the broken, crumpled form of Moontear. The dead Queen lay at the base of the wall, a large pool of blood surrounding her. Her feathered and scaled wings, once beautiful and majestic, were shattered and torn.

The most prominent feature on her body was the massive hole in her chest. It was big enough for Cynder to fit her head through, horns and all. There was no way the Dream Weaver could have survived a wound like that, even if they had a mountain of red spirit gems with them.

Most of the Guardians didn't know her very well, but since she was part of the royal family, they still gave her the proper respect.

"Umbran, would you mind retrieving Tremor, and the councilors?" Spyro asked without taking his eyes off Moontear. He had seen death and brutality before, but this definitely took the cake.

"Are you sure you want them to see this?" Umbran asked, gesturing at the dead queen.

Spyro nodded. "This will show them just how powerful our new enemy is. If we want any hope of surviving, we need to prepare now."

Umbran gave a curt nod before turning around and running off. Spyro directed his attention to the others.

"Flame, go and check the portals in the lobby. We need to make sure nothing else got through," the Guardian ordered. Flame knew better than to question the orders of the Supreme Grand Master Guardian, and quickly left the room.

Aside from the cries of pain of wounded soldiers, the courtroom was eerily silent. Everyone was still processing the intense fight, trying to make sense of what happened.

That silence was broken as Tremor and the representatives walked back into the room, jaws agape as they stared at the destruction. They gasped at the scene, eyes wide in horror as they took everything in, from the blood and corpses on the ground to the elemental marks on the walls.

As the councilors looked around, Spyro walked up to Umbran.

"Where's Toothless?" he asked in a quieter voice.

"He's in the lobby with Flame," the dragoness replied Spyro nodded and turned back to face the group.

As he did, a mournful cry erupted from Tremor, who had spotted the spotted the remains of his mate's body. He rushed over to the fallen Dream Weaver, ignoring the blood splattering onto his armor and robes.

Tremor cradled Moontear's body in his forelegs, tears spilling from his eyes and onto the soft scales and fur of the Dream Weaver.

"They will pay," the Warfang King angrily said. "They will pay for attacking the heart of Warfang, and murdering my mate."

The Guardians glanced at each other. Revenge was an incredibly strong desire, one that usually ended with drastic consequences. And with an enemy like this, well, revenge would only end with one outcome.

Tremor slowly lay his mate's body back on the floor, before closing her eyes with his paw. He unclasped the robe from her back and lay it on top of her body, making sure to cover her face.

The King stood up, rage and hatred flooding through his body. This enemy was going to pay dearly.

"King Tremor!" came a cry from the entrance of the courtroom. A panting, winged feline rushed into the room and bowed before the earth dragon. Tremor recognized her as a scout, one meant to patrol the edge of the outskirts of Warfang.

"Rise," the earth dragon commanded, a fire in his eyes. "What do you have to report?"

"Movement" *pant* "has been spotted all around the perimeter of Warfang," the scout told him. "Scouts in the northeast section of the outskirts have also reported that large groups of dragons and winged creatures are approaching the outer limits of our territory."

The eyes of everyone in the room widened at the words.

"Were you able to talk to those approaching us?" Tremor asked, pupils slitting as his brown eyes narrowed. The scout nodded.

"They told us that they were fleeing from Gitria. Something attacked them, and they couldn't get any word out. Their portals had stopped working, and with nothing else they fled into the wild," the feline continued. "They keep saying that their king and queen are dead and most of the city is destroyed, but that can't be possible."

All of those in the room, aside from Tremor, reeled back in shock. The assault on the Courtroom by those corrupted Aslorians hadn't been limited to just Warfang!

As the councilors, representatives, and Guardians began talking about the turn of events, Tremor sat back on his haunches. He was still struggling with all of this: the loss of contact, the invasion of the courtroom, Gitria under attack, his mate being murdered in front of his eyes.

He didn't know if he could keep doing this.

But the King had to be strong. The King was responsible for leading his people to joy and prosperity, victory and celebration. If the Tremor had failed to save his mate, one of the greatest joys in his life.

A King could lose his mate and soldiers, but losing his citizens, the ones he swore to the Gods he would protect, was unacceptable.

"Tremor, we need to get troops over to Gitria right now, and help them take it back," Kindle urged, stepping towards the earth dragon. There was no reply from the king, and Kindle quickly noted the blank look on his face.

"Actually, sending troops to the other Kingdoms would be a terrible idea," said Flame, taking that moment to re-enter the room, Toothless by his side. The general faced the King, a look of horror present on his red-scaled face.

"Your Highness, it's worse than we feared. We still have refugees from Imura streaming through the portals, and we're moving as fast as we can to open up more. One thing's for certain though: the leadership of Imura has been completely eliminated, along with most of their military leaders and magical field watchers," Flame said, dread dripping from every word.

"My liege, we need to know what is going on in the other kingdoms, and quickly!" one of the councilors suggested, standing up in his seat. Tremor nodded at him, and one of the guards quickly moved to turn on a portal.

Just as the guard reached the Imuran portal, however, the portals lining the walls of the room suddenly turned on and opened up. Voices could be immediately heard through the magical fields, and none of them sounded good.

"Help! We're under attack by unknown enemies, and we don't know what to do! Our leaders are dead, the military has been completely destroyed, and we can't stay in this position for much longer! Is there anybody out there?" came a voice from the Hefors portal.

"Can anyone hear me? I need assistance; our leaders are dead, we're under attack by an enemy we've never seen before! We need help!" cried a voice from Cresshen, the land of the Peace Keepers.

"I need help! Our city has been completely destroyed, our military is gone, and we have no one to turn to! Something otherworldly attacked, and I've got no idea what to do!" pleaded a voice from Mimun, the land of the Beast Makers.

This continued around the room. Each portal was broadcasting a myriad of pleas and cries for help, and those in the room were being quickly overwhelmed.

"What should we do Tremor?"

Tremor's face was blank, and for a second Spyro and Cynder worried that he had fallen under the enemies' spell again. Thankfully, he turned and strode up to the throne, where he looked down at his subjects.

"What we are facing here is something none of us could have ever prepared for. Even Malefor, one of the most powerful dragons to ever live, could not have done what this, Tide, has achieved in less than a day," Tremor said. Those below him were hanging onto every word he said.

Out of the corner of his eye Tremor could see the emptiness of the throne next to him. He tried to imagine his mate sitting next to him, but everytime she appeared there was something wrong with her.

The King shook his head, and focused back on those below him.

"Our very way of life has been threatened, and we can not let that happen. Guardians, representatives, and fellow councilors, we are at war."

One that we are not likely to win.

* * *

Gecus 19th, Season of Fire, Year 30, 77th Age

Dyros' Throne Room, Los, Velorum System

Unknown time

Aslore's sun, Dyras, was the brightest of all the stars in the sky. Everyone on Aslore looked up to it in awe and wonder, and used the luminous ball of hot plasma for guidance through hard times. It was a reflection of Dyros' power and strength, easily outshining anything but the moon.

It was also the meeting place of the Gods and Goddesses of Aslore, along with the demi-gods and even mortals deemed worthy of being in the Gods' presence. Dyros had called a special meeting, and asked (in some cases, commanded) for all the deities of Aslore to meet in Dyras.

In total, there were over three hundred Gods and Goddesses alone that watched over Aslore, without counting demi-gods. If demi-gods were counted, that number would reach into the thousands.

And all of them were assembled within the Great Hall of Dyras.

Dyros watched as over a thousand deities and semi-deities teleported or filed into the room, taking their seats at the great table in front of them. Many of them looked disgruntled or unhappy about the meeting, wanting to get back to Aslore and fight the Tide head on.

"Thank you all for coming," Dyros welcome Atia and I were planning on having this meeting in a few days, but recent events have caused us-"

"'Recent events', you say," hissed Kytresa, the dragon Goddess of death and revenge. A look of unbridled anger was on her face, and red and purple lines ran up and down her body at a furious pace.

The glare she gave Dyros could kill mortals and cow Gods foolish enough to make her angry.

Dyros remained unmoved, his only reaction being a furrowing of his brow scales. He stared at his sister, red and orange eyes gazing into black and red ones.

"Listen Kytresa-"

"How long have you two actually known about this?" the Goddess demanded, interrupting her brother with an ice-cold tone.

Havaran, the dragon God of War and her mate, rested a paw on the fuming dragoness' shoulder.

"Atia and I have had our suspicions for years, but we've haven't been able to confirm whether it was the Tide or not until now," Dyros lied. Of course he wouldn't tell his sister about how he had known that the Tide had never been destroyed in their war so long ago. She couldn't know that it was gathering its strength as it fed on other, less fortunate Realms.

Most mortals thought that the Gods were infallible beings, always telling the truth and incapable of lying. They had no idea how wrong they were. The Gods and Goddesses of Aslore lied quite often, usually to further their own agendas.

Even when their entire Realm was on the brink of destruction, they continued to lie to each other. It was for the greater good, though: if he told the others at how he and Atia had known for thousands of years, the outcry would prevent any of them from getting anything done.

Fortunately, Kytresa seemed to believe him. "If I find out that you've known for a long time-"

"It wouldn't have made a difference," came the calm and collected voice of Nidos. The assembled Gods and Goddesses all shifted their gaze to one of the oldest dragons in the Realms.

"And why not, Nidos? If those two," the furious Goddess pointed to her brother and his mate, "had warned us about this thirty years ago, we could have stopped the Tide before it appeared in our Realm!"

"What exactly are we facing here, Dyros?" asked Viralea, the gryphon Goddess of Magic and Strength. She sat at the far end of the table, next to the other gryphon deities.

Dyros took a deep breath, preparing himself to tell the rulers of the Realm about the greatest enemy Aslore had ever faced.

"About 210,000 years ago, before many of you were either born or gained power, Aslore found itself in a massive, multi-Realm war against a threat far beyond anything we could have imagined," the God conjured up a picture of ancient, corrupted Aslorians.

"It called itself the Tide. We don't know what its goal is or why it attacks and consumes Realms, but we do know that it turns and corrupts those it touches. Even Gods such as us are vulnerable to its powers, as I'm sure you all know."

Dyros was talking about how every single God felt their power being drained by something earlier in the mortal week. Some of them even felt thoughts appearing in their heads that were not their own.

"After ten thousand years of constant warfare, the Tide was successfully driven off, and has not been heard from for 200,000 years," he continued.

"And now it's returning, no thanks to your so-called 'prodigies'," Kytresa hissed. Atia shot her a glare.

"Cynder is a Küros, and therefore related to you and your ilk, Kytresa. We simply chose her for our mission."

"A mission?" Iphion, the Goddess of the Afterlife, asked. Kytresa narrowed her eyes at her brother.

The powerful Sun God nodded at the question.

"Our plan is to have Spyro and Cynder send a message through the Realms, asking for assistance with stopping the Tide," he told them.

"Even if we had the help of a dozen of the more powerful Realms, we still wouldn't be able to fend off an enemy as great as this," Nidos scowled. "What aren't you telling us, Dyros?"

"The message isn't going to be a broadcast across the Realms, Nidos," Dyros told the Time God. "It's going to be sent to a specific world, one which holds the key to not just our survival, but the survival of all the Realms."

With a flick of his paw, an image of a planet appeared above the long table. There were gasps from the older Gods as they recognized the image. Some of the younger deities, who knew of the world from stories and legends, gaped at the sight.

The eyes of several Gods and Goddesses, particularly those of Kytresa and the Kurosian Gods, immediately shifted to Dyros. Their eyes were filled with betrayal.

"What is this, Dyros!?" Kytresa roared out. Her children were furious at the image, knowing just what lived on that world.

"This is the home of our salvation, Kytresa," Dyros defended himself, trying to remain as calm as possible. Kytresa was throwing his entire plan into jeopardy with her frequent outbursts.

"What is this world?" Agses, the Magic Crafter God of Blacksmithing asked.

"That is the home of the Warmasters!" Atia responded.

There was a collective gasp from the entire table of deities as they realized just what Dyros was planning.

"You plan on bringing them back here? After everything they've done to our world?" the deep voice of Yukathul exclaimed.

"It's been 200,000 years, Yukathul. I am certain that not only do they forget our world, but they have the means to fight the Tide."

"How dare you, Dyros!"

"Dare what, Kytresa? Certainly you remember how effective they were at fighting the Tide! We need that kind of power and military might if we want to have any chance of survival!" Dyros finally snapped, yelling at his younger sister. She was silent as the Sun God glared knives at her.

"At what cost, Dyros?" she asked, in a much quieter tone than before. She placed her head into her paws, doing her best to calm down.

"Um, excuse me?" came a voice from the far end of the table. Dyros and Atia turned to the individual.

"Exactly who are the Warmasters?" the figure in question, a Celestial, asked.

"A species that will enslave us and kill us all the first chance they get!" Akatosh, the God of the Dovah, yelled, his red eyes blazing.

The room quickly descended into chaos as the the deities at the table began arguing amongst each other. Dyros, Atia, and several hundred dragons defended the decisions to bring the Warmasters, several hundred more fought against the plan, while the rest sat there, thinking about what to do.

"WOULD ALL OF YOU BE QUIET?!" roared Nidos, the Time God choosing now to speak up. The entire room went silent as they stared at the oldest God in the room.

"Bickering will get us nowhere. With every passing second, the Tides presence on Aslore grows stronger. If we keep this up, our Realm will fall within the week," Nidos said, golden eyes darting between those at the table.

"Dyros' plan is the only effective one we have. Everyone here will have to put aside their petty grievances and issues with the Warmasters, or else the Tide will consume our Realm," the old dragon spoke gently.

"If we don't work together and combine our powers, if we don't put aside old grudges and differences, the Tide will consume our Realm. We are one of the linchpins of the Realms, and if we fall so does every Realm out there."

The assembled Gods and Goddesses began quietly talking amongst each other as they listened to the Time God's words. Deities began nodding to each other as Nidos continued.

"What the Warmasters did to us in the past will never be forgotten. However, we must believe that they will help our cause when they see what will happen if they don't."

Nidos conjured up a future image of their world, corrupted by the tide. It was a sickly yellow and black, with entire sections of the planet decaying and lifeless.

"The Warmasters have the power to stop the Tide; they did before thousands of years ago. Kytresa," Nidos turned to look at the Goddess, "please, for the sake of our Realm, put the past behind you so that Aslore can continue."

Everyone, especially Dyros, watched with baited breath as Kytresa pondered Nidos' words.

"Very well," Kytresa finally agreed, eliciting a sigh of relief from Dyros and Atia. "But I'll be watching them. If they endanger my children in any way, shape, or form, I will bring down the entire wrath of Hell upon their heads!"

The Goddess of the Underworld quickly vanished, along with her Kurosian children.

"Does anyone else disagree with the plan?" Dyros questioned the people at the table. Everyone shook their heads.

"Very well. We will follow through with the plan. I will need everyone to fight off the Tide as much as they can while I prepare the message," Dyros said. Everyone at the table nodded before standing up and leaving the room.

"Are you absolutely sure there is no other way?" Nidos asked, grunting as he felt the Tide strike at the time stream for the fifth time today.

Dyros let out a sigh as he turned to look out the window. "If there was another way I would've already taken it. I prepared as much as I could against the Tide for thirty years, but even then they rolled right over us."

"I pray that you are making the right choice here, Dyros," Nidos said. "I'll make sure the Chronicler knows to inform Spyro of your plan."

The Time God turned around and began walking out of the room.

"Answer me honestly, Dyros," Nidos asked, craning his head to peer at the Sun God. "Do we have any chance of winning this?"

"I don't know," Dyros admitted. He directed his gaze downwards to the golden floor. "But if the Warmasters decide not to help, there won't be an Aslore lwft to save."

* * *

And the plot thickens…

Just what is the Tide? What exactly went down between the Gods all those years ago? And who are the Warmasters, the ones that the Gods now think to be their only option to fight off their enemy?

All will be revealed in good time.

I understand that some might find scenes in this story too gruesome and gory. If you don't like gore that's fine, but remember war is a dirty, dirty thing. Medieval battles were legendary for how bloody the could get, and with more advanced weaponry comes more brutal ways of killing.

The scene of the Deceiver brutally murdering a child might be shocking to some, but I won't change it.

The demon that Spyro and Cynder faced was an actual demon from a different Realm that was corrupted by the Tide.

I based Dyros' and Atia's designs off the Celestial Guardian designs of Dragoncid on deviantart. Go check them out, they're really cool!

Also, there's a quote in here by Terry Pratchett. Can you find it?

Dovahzul translations:

Ahstiir - situation

Dirun - caution

If you see any grammatical or spelling errors, please let me know!

Don't forget to review, and I'll see you all in the next chapter!


	9. A2: Chapter 3(8): Prepare For the End

**AN: Here's the full chapter 8 in all its glory!**

**Music for this chapter:**

**Refugees - Steven Price**

**Doomsday - Two Steps From Hell**

**Prepare for the End - Epic Score**

**XL-TT - Hiroyuki Sawano**

**Come and Get Them - Tyler Bates**

**Aslore months = Earth months:**

**Aas = January**

**Yiln = February**

**Maur = March**

**Qlist = April**

**Criw = May**

**Exard = June**  
**Gecus = July**

**Ikall = August**

**Sruln = September**

**Druvirt = October**

**Frurst = November**

**Karis = December**

**Disclaimers:**

**TLoS and characters belong to Activision.**

**Toothless and the Night Fury species belongs to Dreamworks.**

**The Kuros species belongs to WeirdHyenas (deviantart).**

**The Adalisks and Zirra belong to LexSeeraphine (deviantart).**

**Kindle belongs to DragonCid (deviantart).**

**The Guardians Typhonis, Terroric, Ventus, Toxica, Umbran, Lumar and Miakis, along with Starlight, Briam and other original characters belong to me.**

**The plot belongs to me.**

**I have permission to use the characters and species that aren't mine.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Gecus 26th, Season of Fire, Year 30, 77th Age**

**Horian Gate, Outskirts, Warfang**

**5:33 PM**

...

Kindle sighed as she padded up the steps to the top of the defensive wall, her armor shifting and clinking with each step. The afternoon sun was just beginning to set, casting the city in an golden glow.

It had been a long, tiring day for the fire Guardian. Events and meetings about Warfang's defenses had gone on all day long, and she still had patrol duty for the Axinus Wall.

Kindle reached the top, and the two ape guards standing on either side of the walkway instantly snapped to attention. They saluted the fire dragoness, who nodded back.

The red dragoness walked along the wall until she reached the Horian Gate, the northernmost of the six large gates that allowed access in and out of Warfang on the ground. From here she could overlook the Myanmer Valley, which was usually empty except for the wildlife.

Today was different.

The line of refugees at the base of the gate stretched on for miles, weaving through valleys, plains, and forests as they waited by the millions to enter Warfang. The dragon city had become the last bastion of hope for dragons, moles, canines, felines, and all the other species who had lost their homes to the Tide.

The fire Guardian felt her blood boil with rage as she thought about the death and destruction caused by this new foe. She had heard the screams and cries of the dead and the dying when the portals had opened briefly. It was something that had haunted her dreams for the past week, and she swore that at times she caught brief flashes of what had transpired.

She watched the line of refugees as each one would go up to the gates and give their information to the guards, then wait to be given a ticket before entering Aslore's largest city-state.

At least some people survived, she thought.

Without warning, a sharp pain wracked the fire dragoness' head, and she yelped.

Kindle hissed and clenched her teeth as painful images of Warfang consumed by flames shot through her skull. Her head started pounding, and she pulled off her helmet before clutching her head.

The images transitioned to a single, moving image depicting darkness taking over the city. Reality became distorted as black fog creeped through Warfang's streets, shredding anyone caught out in the open.

Buildings crumbled left and right, their foundations decaying instantly once it was touched.

Kindle watched in horror as the Spire, the heart of Warfang, fell to the ground below, sending dust and debris high into the air.

The image shifted to a wall on one of the streets, hundreds of bodies surrounding it, with a phrase written in blood:

THIS IS THE WAY THE WORLD ENDS.

The images disappeared, and Kindle found she could breathe again. She groaned, and picked herself off the ground before putting her helmet back on.

These visions and dreams had been appearing to her (and likely the other Guardians as well) for the past week, and there was nothing the dragoness could do to stop them.

Kindle had tried showing them to Bluevision, a Dream Weaver friend of hers, in the hopes he could make them stop.

He took one look at the vision in question and promptly fainted. When he woke up, he was shaking heavily, and simply left the building. Kindle never brought it up with him again.

The visions had been appearing at an increasingly frequent rate, much to the dragoness' dismay. Lately she had been getting little sleep, and was completely unable to look into the Pool of Visions without seeing said visions.

The dreams and visions were always of the same thing: Cities and castles burning, the roar of the flames overpowered by the screams of civilians being killed by the hundreds. Over the past few nights, however, the dreams began progressing.

They dreams used to end when one of the gates in Warfang fell, letting the enemy in. Now, she would watch as a black mass rushed into Warfang, destroying everything in its path.

Were they some kind of message or warning from the Gods?

The sound of beating wings reached her ears. Momentarily forgetting about the dreams, the dragoness turned to see Zirra flying towards her. Kindle lightly frowned, confused as to why the Adalisk would want to see her of all dragons.

"Good afternoon, Zirra," the Guardian greeted. Zirra didn't reply, only giving a curt nod to let Kindle know she heard her. Kindle didn't need to ask Zirra how she was feeling to know that the Adalisk was not in a good mood.

Finding out that most of your people were slaughtered while you were away tended to do that.

"I'm sorry for your loss," said Kindle, trying to comfort her friend. The Adalisk snorted in response, and Kindle decided not to press the topic.

The next ten minutes passed in near silence, only broken by the clanking of the guards' armor and the chatter coming from the gates. The wind picked up, gently blowing across the valley and into the city.

"I'm worried," Zirra said suddenly, breaking the silence. Kindle glanced over to see the Adalisk bowing her head.

"Why?" Kindle asked.

"If the Tide was powerful enough to wipe out the other kingdoms, then why hasn't it made a move on Warfang yet?" the Adalisk wondered aloud. "They're planning something."

"We know they've been planning something, Zirra. We just don't know what it is they're planning," Kindle corrected. The Adalisk idly nodded, deciding to remain silent.

"All we can do now is wait, and pray that the Gods will come to our aid," Kindle continued, a forlorn tone in her voice.

Zirra snorted and shook her head. "You can be so naive at times, Kindle."

Kindle's eyeridges raised in surprise, not expecting such a response. "What do you mean?"

"The Gods never came to the aid of any of the other kingdoms. What makes you think they'll come to Warfang's?"

Kindle didn't reply.

* * *

**Thundering Timberland, Outskirts of Tall Plains **

6:27 PM

...

A cold harsh wind cut through the densely wooded forest, bending the green grasses and blowing the leaves off trees. The sun had been descending for about an hour now, lowering the temperature and sending wild animals scurrying for warmth.

The sky had turned into an orange and pink landscape, with the clouds taking on a light yellow. The

A yellow and blue drake flew over the forest, his large frame casting an equally large shadow on the trees below. The chilly air buffeted his body, but the electricity coursing through his veins kept him from getting cold

The white and blue armor the dragon wore contrasted with the forest and evening sky, but the magic laced within it kept him from being too visible by those on the ground. The oncoming night helped as well, reducing the ability at which draconic eyes could see.

Seeing nothing in this area of the forest, the dragon flapped his large wings, sending him higher into the air.

Spark's keen eyes scanned the ground below for anything out of the ordinary. These parts were unknown to him and the convoy, so the group stopped and had Spark check the area to make sure it was safe.

Spark and the convoy were some of the few dragons to escape Gitria, the capital city of the Artisan dragons, before the Tide destroyed the city and killed everyone inside. Spark had served in one of the scouting regiments, but when he saw the wave of destruction heading towards the area where his family lived, the electric dragon abandoned his post and raced home.

His commander had told him to stop and provide assistance to troops on the ground, or he would risk being brought before the king and queen for a trial. However, Spark and many of the other scouts had seen what the Tide would do to those who fought it, and decided that living was a much better option than being torn apart by the the Tide.

His mate and hatchling had been huddling inside the house, and when Spark returned home they . Within minutes of his return the family of three had packed up everything of importance and

When other dragons living in Spark's neighborhood noticed what he was doing, they set about doing the same, and soon a fairly large convoy had been created. The neighborhood had a quick meeting and decided to split up into smaller convoys, so that the Tide couldn't get them all if they were caught.

Their ultimate goal? Warfang.

The exodus happened right as the Tide broke into the main section of Gitria, and killed the high King and Queen. Spark and his group quickly made for the gates and were out of the city before the slaughter got worse.

After leaving visual range of the city, one of the elder dragons in the group told them about a pass through the mountains used by explorers and traders to bypass the tolls, and would lead them to Tall Plains. From there it was only a day's journey or so to Warfang.

Very few people knew about the Pass, and it was so out of the way that it was highly unlikely the Tide would look for them there..

The trade-off was that it would take three days longer to get to Warfang, and the journey would be harder and more treacherous than the other routes to Warfang.

However, several of the dragons in the convoy disagreed with the plan, arguing that because no one knew of the pass, if something happened to the convoy, they would be on their own.

Eventually, they were convinced that it was the best option they had, and the convoy continued on.

Spark snorted in amusement. If an Elder said the pass was safe, why would you want to argue with them? The Elder who told the convoy about the pass, Sombra, said that he had used the pass many times when he was younger to go exploring. He assured everyone it was safe, and Spark believed him.

So far, Sombra hadn't let the convoy down, even offering to lead it himself so they could get through the quite narrow pass. They nearly lost a couple carriages because of the steep cliffs and treacherous terrain. Rain and thunder constantly poured down on the convoy, and they were lucky the powered carriages were water-proof.

The first thing Spark wanted to do in Warfang was shake Toothless' hand for the carriage's design.

Spark was pulled from his thoughts when he noticed a change in the environment ahead of him. The green of the forest turned to yellow plain, much like the ones rumored to be in Tall Plains. Intrigued, Spark sped up, darting over the treetops before arriving at the edge of the forest.

In front of him lay the largest field of tall grass he had ever seen.

This must be it, the electric dragon thought, as he cast a magical detection spell on his eyes. Tall Plains was known to have a substantial amount of magic running through it, so if he could find a vein of magic, he would find Tall Plains.

Sure enough, once his vision changed the area in front of him lit up like a valley on fire, nearly blinding the dragon. Magic flowed through every nook and cranny for miles around, and the elements of earth and air were the only ones Spark could detect.

This was Tall Plains alright: large, open fields of tall grasses, plenty of small wildlife, and an abundance of magic. What was in the sky confirmed it as well.

There! he thought, as he spotted the floating islands that were the Atlawa's home off in the distance. They were up high in the sky, far above the cloud layer, with no visible means for people on the ground to travel up there.

Thankfully, the Atlawan Shrine God granted them the ability to make portals, which the llama people set up on the ground. Once the convoy reached those they would be safe on the islands in the sky.

Having completed the primary objective of his scouting run, Spark started his second: looking for any sign of Tide corruption or dark magic. The dragon cast another spell on his eyes, this one designed to check for unnatural elements and magic.

Once the spell was complete, he looked around, and immediately noticed how dull and grey everything was. That was to be expected with magical vision, but it surprised Spark nonetheless.

It meant that there was no corruption for miles around.

Had they done it? Had the convoy finally beaten the Tide to Tall Plains? Sparx prayed to the Gods that that was the case. He rose into the air with a few flaps from his powerful wings, and flew in a straight line towards the islands.

After ten minutes of searching he came to the conclusion that there waAsn't any presence of the Tide in Tall Plains. The convoy could safely move through the grasses towards the portals.

Finished with his mission, Spark turned around, back towards the forest. It was time to get back to the convoy and tell them what he saw.

As he flew, he checked out the scenery while keeping an eye open for any enemies. While the convoy feared a Tide attack the most, grublins, orks, trolls, and even the local wildlife could pose a threat to the convoy.

At first he didn't see anything out of the ordinary, what with the winds blowing the grasses this way and that, but eventually he did happen on something unusual. There was an area of grass that looked like it had been burned away. Frowning underneath his helmet, Spark descended to check it out.

As he landed, Spark immediately noticed two things: the remains of a camp, and the fact that said camp was taken down very recently. Pieces of tents, remnants of campfires, and broken sticks were littered everywhere.

Spark breathed deeply, and gagged at the scent: Grublins had been here, and quite a few of them. He knew that smell anywhere.

A camp of grublins, huh? What were they doing all the way out here? Spark pondered.

This camp was small, so there couldn't have been very many of them. Enough for a small raiding party, but not enough to go up against the convoy. There were plenty of soldiers and ex-dragon knights in the group, so there wasn't much to worry about.

Still, it would be good to let the elders know about this. They would decide whether to grow through the Plains or not.

He rose back into the air, figuring that it was time he returned to the group. He had been gone for an hour, and the sun was slowly descending through the sky.

The scout took off towards the forest, where the other dragons were waiting.

Happy thoughts graced Spark's head as he flew. The convoy's spirits would be lifted at the news that the Atlawa were only a few miles away. The next couple hours of walking would be a breeze, and his mate would be very happy about that.

Spark soon reached the forest, and within minutes located the convoy. Strangely, they were almost a mile ahead of where Spark took off. The green and white carriages were easily visible from the sky, each with the seal of Gitria plastered on.

It was divine intervention that kept them from being found.

"There he is!" a voice yelled from below.

Waiting on the ground were a dozen dragons, including the five elders. They watched as he descended, shielding their eyes from the dust and leaves blown into the air by Spark's wings. They circled around him once he landed.

Spark bowed to the elders, who stepped forth from the crowd. They were the ones who made the most important decisions for the convoy, and had kept everyone alive so far.

"What'd you see? Was there any sign of the enemy?" asked Sombra, his grey fins wavering in the wind.

The younger dragon shook his head. "No sign of it sir, just trees and wildlife in every direction. About two miles up ahead the forest transitions to large grasses, so we should be on the outskirts of Tall Plains. Assuming we spend the night there, we can probably reach the outskirts of Warfang by late tomorrow evening."

Excited murmurs cut through the crowd at the news. Finally, they were in allied lands! It had been a long, stressful week, and everyone was ready for some proper rest.

The shadow dragon let out a sigh of relief. "Good. We'll make contact with the Atlawa when we get there; see if they can provide us with some shelter for the night."

The other dragons nodded in agreement as their muzzles split into grins.

"Did you see any other enemy? Grublins, orks, trolls, feral dogs, windterrors, anything like that?" another elder, Acadius, questioned. To the answered prayers of many, the yellow scout shook his head.

"No, but some grublins might have been there recently. I spotted the remains of a few camps in the plains surrounding the islands, which looked to be about a day old. They weren't big, and probably housed a small raiding party," Spark told them. More murmurs spread through the crowd.

"However, I doubt they would pose any real threat to us. From what I could tell, it looked like there were only six to eight grublins. We can handle that, if they do decide to attack," Spark assured the crowd.

The crowd bought his words broke up before heading back to their carriages. Spark was left alone with the elders.

"Very well. Spark, you may return to your wagon. Thank you for your service, and may the Ancestors watch over you," Hydronus told the scout. Spark bowed respectfully at the compliment, earning a smile from the water dragon before the elders walked off to their carriages.

Spark turned and walked to his wagon, where he found his mate patiently waiting for him.

"Spark, you're back!" Wattara said happily, and shifted forms as she walked towards the drake. The pale yellow and ice-blue dragoness nuzzled her mate underneath his jaw. "Did you see it, while you were out there?"

Spark took a step back and shook his head, grinning. "No. It's not following us anymore. We're safe," he told his mate.

"Finally," Wattara whispered, "I thought we were never going to escape it." The dragoness leaned into her mate's chest, enjoying the thump thump of her drake's strong heartbeat.

The pair stood there for a couple seconds, reveling in each other's presence, only to be drawn away by their daughter.

"Daddy, how long until we get there?" the young dragoness asked as she opened the doors to the carriage. Spark smiled at the site of his wonderful daughter, her orange and yellow scales almost shining in the waning sun.

"We'll get there when we get there, Electra," the older dragon said. "We still have to walk a couple hours to get to Tall Plains, where we'll spend the night before finishing our journey to Warfang tomorrow."

"But that's take a long time, and I'm soooo booooooored," Electra whined, flopping to the floor of the carriage as Spark went around the side to power it on. Electra rolled onto her back and stared up at the sky. "There's nothing to do in here. Can I get out and fly around?"

"I'm sorry sweetie, but you can't. We don't want you young ones getting lost in the forest," Spark shook his head. The disappointment on Electra's face broke Spark's heart, but Sombra had made it clear that no young ones were to be seen flying around.

"Besides, didn't you just have a break?" the electric drake asked. Wattara shook her head.

"We didn't. Sombra kept us moving through the forest so we wouldn't get attacked," she replied.

"So that's why I found you guys in a different part of the forest," Spark turned to his mate, having made the connection.

"Don't you think we should at least take a small break?" Wattara asked. Electra was rapidly nodding in agreement, and Spark sighed.

"I'll go talk to Sombra about taking a break. He may not agree, but let's pray he does," the scout said, and leapt into the sky.

Sombra's carriage was not hard to find, what with it being at the front of the convoy and all. The scout alighted next to Sombra, the old dragon oblivious to his presence.

"Sombra?"

The shadow dragon startled at the voice and quickly turned to the scout.

"Careful there Spark. You don't want to give me a heart attack, do you?" the elder mused, earning a chuckle from Spark. "Is there something you need?"

"Wattara told me the convoy has been walking for hours with a rest. Can we stop and take a brief break?

"Sombra, several of the carriages are requesting we take a brief break to rest and eat. We've been walking all day, and the exhaustion is getting to us," said Spark.

"If we stop at all, that thing will catch up with us," Sombra argued. Spark shook his head.

"I didn't see it on my flight, as I told you already. The Tide is probably so focused on Gitria that it's not paying attention to the people fleeing it," Spark argued back. Sombra huffed at the dragon's logic.

"Very well," the dragon caved in. He ordered the convoy to stop and take a half hour before disappearing into his carriage. The large group happily complied, and began breaking out food and drinks.

The refugees rested in the shade provided by the forest, enjoying the feeling of the wind against their scales. They snacked and talked, sharing stories and what they hoped to do once in Warfang.

A high-pitch scream suddenly ripped through the air, followed by the sounds of metal clanging against metal. Heads whipped up and eyes darted around as the dragons tried to pinpoint the sound.

Confusion and fear spread across the convoy,

Grunts and roars filled the air, scaring the children and causing several to start crying. One more ear-piercing scream was heard before the forest was silent again, the sounds stopping just as suddenly as they started.

Slowly, dragons peeked out from behind their carriages and looked around the forest. Seeing nothing immediately threatening, Whispers and murmurs filled the convoy as they tried to figure out what just happened.

Spark gazed into the forest, trying to see what caused the screams was in it. He could definitely tell that the higher-pitched scream came from a dragoness, and the others likely came from monsters or the wildlife.

He glanced behind his back at the convoy to see everyone standing just standing around. He couldn't see the elders, and there weren't any guards either.

Someone had to go find out what made that noise, and it looked like he was the only one who was fit for the job.

"Everyone, stay here! I'll go check it out!" the scout yelled, and bounded off towards the forest.

"Spark, you shouldn't be going alone! Wait for one of the Guards!" Wattara insisted. Her pleas fell on deaf ears as Spark disappeared into the brush.

"Spark!" Wattara called, but there was no reply. She huffed in annoyance; this was the exact kind of behavior that led to many a fight back in Gitria. Spark would be constantly out on missions for the Royal Guard, and wouldn't listen to his mate's wishes for him to spend more time with his family.

"Mommy, where'd dad go?" Electra walked up to her mother. Wattara picked up her daughter, and held her close.

"He went into the forest to help whoever was hurt," the dragoness said, as she cradled her hatchling. "I pray that the ancestors will bring him back safely."

We're so close to Warfang now, Spark. Don't die on me yet, Wattara thought as she shook her head.

Sombra chose that moment to suddenly swoop in, his tattered wings whistling in the wind. They looked over the carriages, but were confused when they noticed that the metal wagons were all in pristine condition.

The shadow dragon turned to Wattara, confused. "What happened? We heard screaming and yelling, and thought the convoy was under attack!"

Wattara shook her head, setting her daughter down on the ground. Electra took that moment to run off to her friends, forgetting all about the worries of the adults.

"Some sort of fight occurred in the forest, and Sombra went to investigate by himself! I don't what's in there, but I don't think he can handle it on his own," Wattar told the shadow dragon. Sombra grit his teeth.

"Shit. Did you try to stop him?" the elder asked, orange eyes blazing. Wattara nodded.

"I did, but he wouldn't listen. You've got to send someone else in there to help him out!" the dragoness urged, but Sombra shook his head.

"I'm sorry Wattara, but I can't. If there are enemies in the forest, we need to be able to defend ourselves against. I can't spare any soldiers until the convoy starts moving again," the elder dragon stated. Wattar bowed her head in acknowledgement, a few tears falling from her eyes.

"I just wish he would stop running off like that," she said. Sombra nodded solemnly, and turned to walk off to the front of the convoy. Before he did, he told the crying dragoness, "I promise you Wattara: he will come back."

Meanwhile, Spark bounded through the trees, eager to reach whoever cried out. Leaves and sticks crunched underneath his feet as he dodged branches and low-hanging trees.

"Help!"

The scout stopped in his tracks once he heard the shout. He looked around, but the wind picked, and he found himself unable to pinpoint the noise..

Spark inhaled deeply, and his muzzle twitched into a grimace at the acrid, iron smell. Blood. Figuring out the general direction of the smell, he turned slightly to the right and sped off, little more than a yellow blur on the green ground.

Whimpering reached his ears, and he tore across the ground until he reached an open section amongst the trees. He stepped into the clearing, and his eyes immediately widened. There, sprawled on the forest floor, was an injured blue and green dragoness.

From sixty feet away Spark could see gashes covering her body. One of wings was bent at the wrong angle, and her tailblade looked damaged. The only sign she was still alive was the subtle movements of her breathing.

The scout stepped on a dry twig, snapping it beneath his paw. The sound alerted the dragoness to his presence, who whirled around to face him. Her pale blue eyes widened upon seeing the electric dragon.

"Hey! Can you help me?" she cried out, her voice sounding hoarse. Spark dashed over to her, eyes running over her prone body.

"By the Ancestors! Are you okay? What happened?!" he exclaimed as he examined her wounds. She was bruised all over, and in some areas the scales had been split open, exposing the delicate flesh beneath.

"I was attacked by some grublins! I was taking this trail to find some food, but they sprung out of nowhere and stole my stuff!" the dragoness angrily huffed.

"So that's what those noises were. I'm sorry you got attacked. Come back with me to our convoy. We can give you some medical aid there," Spark said to the dragoness. She nodded.

"Thank you. I'm Visalth, by the way," she replied. The blue dragoness attempted to stand, but yelped in pain from her injuries. She nearly fell back onto the ground, if it weren't for Spark catching her.

"Careful there. Don't want to hurt yourself more, do you?" Spark asked rhetorically, a smirk donning his face. He shifted his body so that Visalth was leaning her right side against his left. "Go ahead and lean on me; I can support your weight."

"Thanks. How far is it to your convoy?" the dragoness asked as she pressed herself against the scout. They walked forward, slowly, with Visalth having a considerable limp from the wound in her side.

"Only a couple minutes," Spark responded. "I don't think they'll have gone anywhere. With a convoy as large as this one, it takes to get going."

The two dragons exited the clearing and entered the thicket. All was silent in the forest, something that set Spark on edge. Where were the animals? Had they disappeared?

"Where is your convoy heading?" Visalth asked, snapping Spark out of his thoughts. Her question confused him: where else would the convoy go but Warfang? Wasn't that where Visalth was going?

"Warfang, of course," the electric dragon replied. "Where else would we go? All the other kingdoms have been taken over by the Tide."

Spark gave the dragoness a curious eye. "Weren't you heading there as well?" he asked. Vislath shrugged.

"I guess. I didn't really know where I was going; only the fact that I had to get away from Gitria," she answered. Spark nodded, his eyes wandering across the forest.

"I can understand that," he said as he pushed a large branch out of the way. "When my family and I left the Cravax district in Gitria, we had no idea of where to go after exiting the gates."

The dragon turned his gaze to the blue sky, hidden behind green trees. He let out a sigh, and slowed his pace.

"I remember the distant screams and sounds of people dying. Every couple of minutes, the ground would rumble slightly as another building collapsed. When I approached my house, I could see fires raging for hundreds of miles around. Entire sections of the city were engulfed in flames, sending plumes of thick black smoke into the sky."

The scout turned his gaze to the ground, shuffling his feet as the terrifying memories replayed in his head. "I still have nightmares about that day."

"I'm sorry," the blue dragoness apologised, bowing her head. "I didn't mean to bring it up."

Spark shook his head. "It's fine," he said. "You didn't know, and there's no harm in mentioning it. I didn't see the roiling black mass that others saw, overtaking the city. I just saw a truly gigantic army, and decided to run instead of wait around to die."

Visalth nodded, and silence reigned once more. The wind picked up, rustling the leaves and grass. Still, to Spark's wonder, there was still no sound of any wildlife.

"How do you plan on getting there? Warfang, I mean," Visalth questioned, breaking the silence of the forest.

"We've been following a trail that one of our elders told us about. Explorers and traders used it back in the days before Malefor to survey the land and avoid the tolls," Spark explained, as he cut down a large fern with a few swipes of his tailblade. "It's very out-of-the-way of the other routes to Warfang, and takes longer, but is much safer. We should hopefully reach Tall Plains in a couple hours once we reach the convoy."

Spark didn't see it, off in his own little world, but the dragoness' eyes narrowed as she listened to his words. "How many people know about that pass?" she asked.

Spark shrugged. "I don't know. Not many, I suppose. Out of all the elders in our group, only one, Sombra, knew about the pass."

"Hmmm," Visalth nodded, seemingly thinking about something else. Not thinking anything of it, Spark remained silent.

The two dragons exited the thicket, and instantly noticed the dozen white carriages sitting on the road a hundred feet away. They were behind a few trees, and Spark could just make out dragons hastily packing up supplies.

"Looks like they're about to leave," Spark commented, and slightly quicked his pace. He turned to look at Visalth, who seemed to be staring at the convoy in front of her.

"That's your convoy?" she asked, receiving a nod from the scout. Visalth frowned. "It's not very big."

"It's bigger than several of the other convoys that left Gitria," Spark defended.

He could tell her leg was feeling better, if the way she shuffled along with it was any indication. "How are you doing?" he asked.

"Better. I think I can walk on my own, thanks," Visalth stated. Spark eyed her injured leg suspiciously, thinking that it couldn't hold much weight, but he let the dragoness try to walk on her own.

Visalth hissed in pain from the pressure on her leg, but was able to take a few steps without falling down. She walked forward, testing out her leg, while Spark watched, thoughts about the dragoness running through his head.

Something didn't add up. First, it was her not knowing about Warfang and the fact that every other kingdom on Aslore was destroyed. Second, it was that she was in a very remote place only accessible on one path, which she had no knowledge of. And third, those wounds on her leg were very deep. In all rights, the blue dragoness shouldn't have been standing.

He needed to know the truth.

"I have a question." Spark said, stopping in his tracks. Visalth turned to look at Spark, confusion written on her face.

"Yes?"

"How did you actually end up here? In this forest? And where's the rest of that family you said you had?" Spark said, staring at the blue dragoness. He cocked his head in confusion. "Is there something you're not telling me?"

Visalth bowed her head and idly pawed at the ground, seemingly embarrassed about the truth.

"Well, a little birdie told me…"2

There was no warning. One second the dragoness was in front of him, the next she was behind him. Spark felt a weird pinching sensation in his chest, and he suddenly found it hard to breath.

He looked down, to see the dragoness' tailspike protruding from his chest. A red liquid dripped from Visalth's tail onto the grass below, staining it red. He realized a second later it was blood. His blood.

"...that some dragons escaped my army." Spark coughed up blood as a dull pain filled his chest. He couldn't feel his lower body at all, and there was a weird tingling sensation in his forearms.

There was a sickening squelch as Visalth pulled her tailblade out of Spark's chest, a spray of blood following it. Unable to stand, Spark fell helplessly to the ground. The dragoness licked at the crimson substance, and a

"Delicious."

Spark groaned as he tried to move his unresponsive body. He had to get to the convoy. He had to warn them before Visalth got there.

The dragoness laughed at his feeble attempts to crawl along the grass.

"And what do you think you're doing, hmm? Trying to get back to your friends and warn them of the big evil dragoness?"

Visalth stepped in front of the downed dragon and leaned her head down to his level.

"Don't worry. There's nothing to be afraid of anymore," she whispered to him. A twisted smile appeared on the dragoness' face, sending a jolt of horror into Spark as she stepped to his side.

His gaze was directed straight ahead, where he saw the carriages in the convoy suddenly explode. Fragements of wood, metal, and bodies were sent flying into the air by the force of the blast. Eldritch fires sprang up across the road, and a few dragons found themselves unfortunate enough to be consumed by the unholy flames.

Spark could hear the screams of his mate, daughter, and friends as blackened creatures leapt out of the forest and descended on the survivors, wielding blades and elemental guns. The guards in the convoy pulled out their own weapons, and the sounds of metal clashing against metal filled the air.

It was a valiant effort on the dragons' part, but ultimately futile. The guards were cut down within seconds, hacked apart into tiny pieces. Dragons tried to flee into the forest, but were either shot, stabbed, hacked, or sliced before they could go very far.

Blood continued to pour out of his wound and onto the grass below him, staining it red. Spark attempted to pull himself forward, .

The yellow drake watched in horror as his mate and daughter huddled against the burning remains of their carriage. Wattar had Electra pressed against her chest.

Electra's head rolled right in front of Wattar, her shocked expression forever painted on her face. Wattar screamed in horror at the site of her daughter's head before a spear impaled her from the back. Her eyes went wide.

She looked up at the dragon, who stared at her with cold eyes.

The elder dragon flicked his tail across Wattar's neck, the razor-sharp spikes slashing open the scales. Blood gushed freely from the wound, and Wattar's head thunked as it hit the ground.

Spark felt hot tears roll down his cheeks at the sight in front of him. His wife and daughter were dead, killed by the one who promised to protect the convoy.

Looking up, he saw a blood-splattered and wounded Sombra approach him, his gait unnatural and evil grin wide. One of his wings was badly torn, and numerous gashes ran along his sides.

But what caught Spark's eye the most was the change in Sombra's eyes. They were no longer those kind blue orbs that exuded intelligence and wisdom. They were entirely yellow, with thin slits for pupils: the eyes of the corrupted. Sombra was one of them, and had been for some time.

"Sombra…" Spark rasped, blood continuing to spill onto the grass. The shadow dragon didn't spare even a glance at the dying dragon. Sparkhacked up more blood, turning his white armor red. "What have you done?"

"I have delivered the convoy, as you requested," Sombra said, his voice sounding less gravelly and more youthful. The dragon shifted to his anthro form and kneeled in front of the dragoness. "These dragons will be a great addition to our forces."

"You have done well, Sombra," Visalth's voice deepened. She stepped into view, and Spark watched, horrified, as her body twisted and convulsed as she shifted into another form.

The creature that appeared in her place was a tall, bipedal thing, covered in a tattered black and purple cloak. Aside from a black tail peeking from underneath the cloak and four sharp talons on each hand, Spark couldn't make out any other defining features of the figure.

"What about those in the convoy?" the shadow dragon asked.

"Resurrect them, corrupt them, give them new memories, and send them to Warfang. They will act as sleeper agents for our invasion," the Deceiver commanded

"Yes, general," the anthros obeyed, gathering the bodies

"And what about him?" Sombra pointed at Spark.

"He is perfect for the mission our leader requires," the figure said, grinning as it kneeled next to the near-dead dragon. It reached out with a dark scaled paw, wickedly sharp talons

"You will lead a strike team deep into the heart of Warfang, and eliminate the Guardians," the figure gleefully said, tracing over the scales on Spark's face.

Spark screamed as his very soul writhed and convulsed from the corruption consuming it. He tried to twist his head to free himself from the figure holding his skull, but with a broken spine and a ruined chest there was nothing he could do.

The figure in front of him grinned at his attempt, and pressed its palm against his forehead. The most intense pain he had ever felt shot through him, and

I'm sorry, Wattara, was Spark's last thought. I failed you.

The corruption consumed the former Gitrian scout, eradicating his soul and leaving him as an empty shell. The corruption filled that void and took over Spark's body, keeping his memories and personality while changing his body.

The dragon grew. His scales darkened,

Spark, or what was left of him, stood up and faced his leader, yellow smoke wafting from corrupted yellow eyes. The dragon bowed

"Do you know your mission?" the Deceiver asked. Not-Spark nodded.

"Infiltrate Warfang, act like one of the citizens, and when the time is right, kill the Guardians and King Tremor," not-Spark replied. The Deceiver nodded, grinning beneath its hood.

"Excellent. Now go; Warfang awaits," ordered the Deceiver.

"As you command, Deceiver," not-Spark bowed, before turning around and walking back to the convoy. The Deceiver followed the dragon with dangerous eyes, .

The second-hand of the Tide leader could only grin beneath its hood.

All was falling into place.

* * *

Chamber of Stone, Inner City, Warfang

4:53 PM

Deep underneath the King's Court, a meeting to determine the fate of Warfang was taking place in the safest spot on Aslore. The war council was in session.

One of the ancient laws of Warfang stated that during a time of war or great crisis, power would be transferred from the current monarch to an oligarchy composed of military leaders, the Guardians, and the monarch themselves.

King Tremor decided to expand that law by allowing foreign rulers into the oligarchy, stating that their expertise and knowledge was needed.

Currently, the council was going over the most recent reports from the scouts in the Outskirts to plan for the inevitable invasion of the city.

"So far we've only had a few light skirmishes with the Tide in the forests around Warfang, each of them ending in a victory for us. We've lost a few dozen troops, but nothing too serious," said Flame, his face remaining stoic. "However, from the reports I've received, it appears the Tide is holding back pretty much everything it has."

Sparx grunted as he pushed the report towards the king, who picked it up. His eyes scanned it, before placing it back on the table and clasping his paws together.

"How easy would it be for the Tide to take over our city?" he asked.

Spyro spoke up. "Easily, if the destruction of the other kingdoms are anything to go by. We may have more advanced magi-tech and more soldiers to combat them, but they have numbers. Even with the might of the Guardians, it's a battle I don't see us winning."

The Warfang king nodded. "And how are the defenses coming along?" he asked, turning to Flame.

The fire dragon stood up and turned on the crystal projector in the center of the table.

"We're currently installing new cannons and strengthening the walls with more powerful wards. They should buy us enough time to evacuate civilians before the Tide gets into the city. Additionally, the integration of magi-field is coming along well, and should be up and running in a few days."

"'Magi-field'?" Feouss, the gryphon general from Warfang, wondered aloud.

"It's a device designed to emit a field of extremely potent raw magic. Anything that hits it is completely vaporized, and can provide complete protection for the city," Flame revealed. "However, it requires tremendous amounts of power. We have enough energy crystals to keep it powered for one or two weeks, but that's without the Tide attacking."

"Why were never told of this device?" the gryphon general asked accusingly, anger flashing behind his eyes. "We could've used it in Hefors to defend the Palace against the Tide, and yet you keep it to yourself?!"

Cyclonus, Lord General of Warfang and the highest-ranking military figure in the room, stood up, a growl emanating from his throat.

"Feouss, calm yourself or you will be thrown out of the bunker! I understand what you are feeling, but getting angry solves nothing!" the pale blue dragon reprimanded. Feouss' piercing green eyes stared into Cyclonus' deep blue orbs.

"Besides, there's only one magi-field generator in existence, and it's a prototype! Even if we had more of them, you would still have to convert spirit gems into a useful form of energy, a process that takes weeks for one crystal!" the general exclaimed.

The two stared at each other for a few moments, before Feouss sighed and broke eye contact, his shoulders falling dejectedly.

"Getting back to business, does Warfang have any air defenses?" Livdero, the Beast Maker general asked in the deep, throaty voice his kind were famous for. "The Tide completely outclassed us in that area, and picked off thousands of us with corrupted flyers."

Flame nodded, and highlighted several hundred cannon emplacements throughout the city.

"Toothless has designed a new type of cannon that can rapidly fire elemental bolts into the air. It's much more effective than mass-firing arrows," Flame said, switching the crystals to one showing the blueprints of the e-cannon. "They've been set up around Warfang, so we should be pretty safe from anything attacking from the air."

Krysnath nodded. "Those should be enough," she said. Just be sure that soldiers are ready to defend them once that shield falls down. Without air defenses, anyone on the ground will be easy picking."

"I can shroud those locations in shadow to keep them from being detected. In fact, any shadow dragon should be able to," Umbra suggested. The generals nodded at her suggestion.

"That could work. You should also set traps in the forest and towns in the Outskirts. When the Tide moves to capture them, you could turn the whole place into an inferno or create a massive sinkhole they can't escape from," Typhonis offered up more ideas.

"Sounds good. Flame, get those set up once our meeting is over. The sooner we lay those traps the better," Tremor said.

"Yes sir," Flame replied, writing down the order as Tremor looked to everyone else in the room.

"With defenses out of the way, let's move onto the next topic. What's the current refugee population, and how are we with treating them?" the king asked.

This time, Ember was the one to speak, as she picked up one of the scrolls sitting in front of her.

"A large group of forty thousand dragons were granted entry into the city yesterday, which brings up the refugee population to approximately 33 million," the head healer of Warfang read from the scroll.

"The total population of Warfang is about to become 40 million, and that's pretty much the maximum number of persons we can have living in both the outer and inner city. Any more than that, and we'll have to start placing people in the Outskirts," Ember continued, handing the scroll to Tremor, who looked over the numbers.

"That worries me," Karmil stated. All eyes on the room turned to her.

"Why? The outskirts make up almost fifty percent of Warfang. There's enough room there to house tens of millions of people," Nyeric, the Adalisk general, argued.

Karmil sighed, shaking her head, "The problem is that the outskirts can't be defended that well. There's too much foliage for a proper defense. If we make build refugee camps there, and things go south, there'll be no way to protect them."

"So, where would be good places for refugee camps, and how quickly could we evacuate them in the event of an attack?" Tremor asked, looking up from the paper.

"Well, that depends on several factors, some of which we don't currently know," Cyclonus spoke up. All eyes turned to him as the wind dragon stood up and walked in front of the Warfang map. He circled the outskirts with a talon.

"If we didn't have to account for the imminent threat of invasion, there are several good spots here, here, here, and here," Cyclonus pointed to the areas. "The Jade mangrove, Srunyth woodland, Stipt lake, and Peht river. Right off the spot, these are ideal places for refugees: roads and trails that lead to the city, plenty of food and water, and there's lots of room for shelter.

"And if we accounted for what we don't know?" Terrador asked

"What we don't know is how long would it take the Tide to break through the outer walls? Out of the multiple entrances, which one will they enter? How quickly would they be able to move through the dense forests, valleys, and swamps? What is their force disposition? We don't know these, and we probably won't for a while," Flame said.

Tremor thought for a second before nodding to himself.

"Find five spots where refugee camps can be built in the outskirts. Keep them close to the wall, and build them in a way where refugees can be quickly evacuated and our troops can man them," the earth dragon ordered. Cyclonus nodded, writing it down on his notepad.

"Now, onto another, more dreadful topic: how many are dead?" Tremor asked.

"Too many. We don't the specific number of deaths for each kingdom, but if we assume that each of them have fallen in their entirety with their entire population killed, then we're looking at the loss of 90-92% of the population of Aslore," the wolf general Greyscar grimly read.

"What are the exact numbers?" Toxicar asked. Greyscar sighed, and pulled out a scroll from a folder.

"Aslore's population is, well was, 750 million in total earlier this year. 90% of the population roughly translates to over 670 million people dead," he stated, voice shaking. Jaws dropped and eyes widened at the wolf's words. Sparx fainted, falling to the table with a silent thud.

Silence reigned in the war room for several seconds as everyone processed that information.

"67-670 million dead?" Cynder stuttered in absolute horror, her voice but a mere whisper. Greyscar nodded and rubbed his eyes.

"Those are my estimates, yes. The good news is these numbers only work if every person in the other kingdoms was killed. It's likely that millions have gone into hiding to escape the Tide, but I don't know for certain," he said.

Everyone perked up slightly at that bit of news, however much of a relief it was. A few million wouldn't make up for the loss of hundreds of millions, but it was much better than everyone being killed.

Terrador suddenly slammed his paw down on the table, waking up Sparx and scaring the other council members. A low, deep growl emanated from his throat, one that put the others on edge.

"The Tide will pay dearly for what they've done to our world. They will not get away with this!" he hissed, his fellow Guardians nodding in agreement.

More silence filled the room as the council prayed for the the souls of the dead, wishing them peace wherever they were.

"On the topic of other nations, I'm guessing there's been no word from our allies?"

Flame shook his head, a grimace appearing on his face. "No, sir. I've stopped sending scouts, as they either return corrupted or just don't return at all."

Tremor sighed. "What about Purlatena? The kingdom at the bottom of the Tempest Ocean? Any news from them?"

"They seem to have gone off the grid. Probably doing their best to keep their city hidden from the Tide," Typhonis replied. He conjured up an image of the city in question, where he spent most of his time during the Dark War

"While the Tide may have corrupted water-based creatures, it is impossible to swim down there. Only by accessing a portal on the surface can you enter the city, and I'm certain they've disabled it by now," he said, pointing to the portal on a cliff.

"So we can't get reinforcements from them either," Tremor sighed heavily. "And we haven't gotten any sign from the Gods that they're helping us. We're truly on our own now."

That little comment instantly got everyone chatting, trying to figure out what to do. Kindle argued that they place their faith in the Ancestors to help them, while Neyric stated that their only hope was to fight.

Tremor attempted to bring order to the court, but the generals started arguing on the different defenses the city should be focusing on. The king sighed, and rubbed the scales on his forehead with a paw. This meeting was taking a toll on his mind.

It took the sudden appearance of Toothless to shut up the council. The large golden doors opened with a bang, startling everyone but Sparx. All eyes turned to the Night Fury, who's chest was heaving. His armor was covered in scrapes, dents, and scorch marks, while he bled from several nasty cuts on his body.

"Enemies" *pant* "at the western" *pant* "gates. Thousands" *pant "of them," the Night Fury wheezed, the adrenaline still pumping through his system.

The eyes of every council member widened in shock. Sharp intakes of breath were heard as several generals gasped.

"Impossible! Your scouts reported the Tide were nowhere close to Warfang!" Feouss screeched. Toothless shook his head.

"They must've hid themselves well amongst the forest! We can't find everything, general. Right now we're trying to close the breach they made in the wall, but there's just so many of them," the Night Fury responded.

Spyro stood up before more arguments could start, and addressed the table. "We'll go," he said, his amethyst eyes glancing around before settling on Tremor. "Us Guardians will defend the wall and keep the Tide from gaining a foothold in the city."

Several other figures stood up, saying they wanted to come with, but Spyro shook his head.

"No," said the purple dragon. "All of you stay here; us Guardians will take care of this. The city will fall apart if any of you die," said the purple dragon, glancing at the others in the room.

A smirk appeared on his face. "Besides, fighting on the front lines is part of our job," Spyro stated, the other Guardians nodding in agreement. "And I doubt the Tide will be expecting us."

The Guardians stood up, their armor magically appearing on their bodies.

"While we close that breach, all of you should start mobilizing the city. Get the defenses ready and start evacuating civilians. This might just be a scouting force trying to find a way to enter the city, but one can't be too sure," Cynder suggested.

"May the Ancestors look after you," Tremor and the council prayed.

"May they look after us all," replied Spyro, before he, the Guardians, and Sparx turned and ran out the doors.

Tremor turned to the generals and section heads in the room, a look of determination settling on his face.

"Bring our army to alert level alpha. Get any and all citizens in the Outskirts into the Outer city. Ember, get your healing stations ready to receive the wounded," he ordered, receiving nods of confirmation. The king turned to Toothless, who remained standing at the doorway.

"Toothless, I want you and Flame to go activate the magi-field generator. The sooner the better," he instructed. The Night Fury and fire dragon saluted before taking off through the doors.

"As for all of you, make yourselves useful. Either help with the logistics of the city, or go and assist the generals with the defense of the city," Tremor told the foreign leaders. They merely nodded; questioning the one offering them asylum was not beneficial to their survival.

Everyone but Tremor stood up and exited the room. Alone, the earth king slumped into his chair, letting out a deep sigh. He rubbed his forehead again, a headache beginning to form in his head.

"So it begins."3

* * *

The thirteen Guardians and one dragonfly raced across the sky, their armor gleaming in the sunlight. Already they could hear the sound of cannon fire in the background, and down below citizens were fleeing in fear.

Everyone's thoughts were on the defense of Warfang. If the Tide gained a foothold in the Outskirts, it would be impossible to drive them out of the city.

"Do you think we'll get there on time?" asked Lumar, a sense of urgency in her voice.

"We have to! We can't let the Tide into the city!" Toxicar replied, determination filling her tone.

The Guardians soon passed the limits of the Outer City, and could immediately see black smoke in the distance. The sounds of weapons fire and sword-fighting were louder, and the number of fleeing civilians had dramatically increased.

"I hope they make it to safety," said Ventus, as he watched a family of dragons run off, a full carriage behind them.

"If the Tide was able to breach our walls this easily, I don't know how safe we really are," commented Terroric. Lumar shot him a glare, and opened her mouth to reply. The words died in her mouth when she gazed forward.

"By the Ancestors!" Volteer cried, spotting the large hole in Warfang's outer wall. Even from a mile away it was big, and the Guardians found themselves dreading the upcoming fight with the Tide.

If they could blow a hole in a wall protected by hundreds of spells and arcane wards, what else were they keeping in store?

Eager to defend the city, the Guardians increased their speed. Soon, they could spot the individual soldiers of Warfang defending the area inside the wall, forming a semi-circle around the damaged portion of the wall.

The Warfang soldiers were doing their best to stem the tide, but they didn't have the numbers to deal with a breach of this size. From up in the air, the Guardians could see tens of Tide troops and corrupted Aslorians streaming into the city, firing their weapons or charging at the defender's positions.

As they approached the town of Horia, Spyro began giving out orders to his fellow Guardians.

"Ventus and Kindle! Help the soldiers evacuate civilians! Join up with us when you're done!" Spyro yelled, pointing to the fleeing people below.

"On it!" the two yelled, breaking off from the group and descending to the ground below.

"Clear them out!" Spyro shouted to the Guardians. He opened his mouth, channeling his energy into a powerful orb of light, aimed it at the largest group of Tide soldiers, and released it. The orb streaked towards the soldiers, who covered their eyes to block the light, before it hit. There was a large flash of light and a boom as the orb detonated, vaporizing the group and sending pieces of stone flying everywhere.

Heads, both enemy and ally, turned to see the 11 dragons quickly descend, elements spewing from their mouths as magic crackled across their bodies. Tide troops and corrupted Aslorians were incinerated, frozen solid, electrocuted, sliced in half, vaporized, started to scream in fear before killing themselves, melted, and torn into tiny pieces.

"Reinforcements!" the Warfang soldiers cheered upon seeing the large dragons make quick work of the Tide forces. Motivated by the sudden arrival, the Warfang troops advanced forward, gunning down dozens of corrupted Aslorians with precise elemental bolts.

Armor boiled away from the intense heat of fire bolts, burning through and igniting flesh and fur underneath. Acid cut through the armor, while earth shots pulped the anthros and turned their insides into mush.

Soon, the immediate area was cleared of Tide forces, and the Guardians landed on the blood-soaked cobblestone.

"Spyro!" called a familiar voice. The Guardians turned to see Hunter sprinting towards them, letting loose several arrows as he did. Dark bolts from corrupted Tide weapons flew over his head, impacting the houses behind him.

"What's the situation?" Spyro asked, as the Guardians switched forms and hunkered down behind the wall.

"The Tide somehow snuck past our defenses and breached the wall! We're trying to push them back out, but they're just so many!"

"Do you have a plan?" Terrador asked, ducking as several energy bolts flew over his head. He lobbed an earth bomb over the barrier, turning a pair of corrupted wolf anthros into pulp.

"Yeah! There's a mole construction team waiting to move in and repair the hole in the wall, but it's currently too dangerous for them! We need to move inwards toward the breach and push the Tide out of the city so the moles can work their magic!" the cheetah shouted over the din, firing his elemental gun over the barrier. The trio of ice bolts froze a falcon solid, which shattered when it was by a soldier's bow.

"Then let's get to it!" yelled Cyril, as he created an ice wall to block a volley of arrows. The gold and blue armored cheetah nodded, and turned around to face his troops.

"Soldiers!" he yelled. All eyes turned to the cheetah, who pointed towards the hole with a clawed finger. "On the count of three, we're going to move up and push the Tide out of the city! Are you with me?!"

"Sir, yes sir!" was the reply. Hunter grinned, and held up three fingers. The sounds of rampaging Tide forces dimmed in his ears as he focused on his troops.

"One!"

The Guardians readied themselves, casting protective spells and conjuring their elements. Magic crackled across their bodies, and they felt their senses heightened by their powerful magicks.

"Two!"

The muscles in Hunter's body tightened, getting him ready for the onslaught. He gripped his weapon hard enough to turn his knuckles white, and he sent a quick prayer to the Gods.

"Three!"

A war cry rang out from the guard force as they surged forward, leaping over their barriers and rapidly firing their weapons. The Guardians stepped out from behind cover, creating a semipermeable wall that allowed Warfang weapons to pass through, but Tide weapons were deflected.

For a second the Tide was stunned by the audacity of the inferior force, but the hold on their souls tightened and they themselves rushed forwards, unearthly sounds erupting from their bodies.

Pillars of earth suddenly erupted from the ground, providing cover for the advancing Guards. The Guardians worked together to help the advance, creating suffocating shadows and pools of electrified water that crushed and fried anything caught inside.

Cyril dodged a tail swipe from a corrupted Beast Maker before retaliating with a freezing stream of ice. An earth shot from Terrador shattered the frozen dragon, sending bloody, frozen chunks into the horde of Tide.

Toxicar lobbed a large ball of acid towards the largest concentration of corrupted Aslorians, instantly eating through their armor and flesh. Dozens screamed as they literally melted, their skin, fur, and scales sloughing off in large clumps.

Terroric and Lumar worked together to create massive pillars of light and dark, which exploded with tremendous force when brought close to each other. Tide soldiers were obliterated left and right by the force of the blasts, along with any house unlucky enough to be caught in the way.

Timora's fear element was somehow strong enough to affect the Tide, sending dozens scurrying into the range of the Guards' elemental weapons or the wrath of the Guardians elements.

Meanwhile, the Guards moved forward under the continuous hail of fire, taking pot shots with their elemental guns at the Tide. Most bolts missed and hit the wall, while the ones that hit had various effects on the Tide.

Some anthros burst into flames, some were melted by globs of acid, and others had their organs evacuated from their body by concentrated kinetic impulses.

"Keep hitting them!" Spyro yelled as he sliced apart a corrupted dragon. Blackened blood spilled onto the floor as the dragons head was separated from its body. Without missing a beat, the purple dragon turned and fired a beam of convexity from his maw, felling an entire line of anthros.

He threw a charged ball of Light at a group of corrupted Aslorians pinning down several Guards, where it exploded with a tremendous boom. The intense energy turned the anthros to ash, leaving no trace of them behind.

"Spyro, heads up!" his mate called, and the purple dragon instinctively ducked. A large dragon flew over his head, courtesy of Cynder. Before the demented dragon could stand Spyro ripped its throat out with his claws and blasted it with a mouthful of light.

The master Guardian turned and looked over the area. The Guards had made significant gains since their charge, and now were only a hundred feet away from the breach. On top of that, the flow of Tide soldiers appeared to be thinning out.

"Sparx!" the purple dragon called as blocked the fire blast of an Artisan dragoness with his wings. He leapt to the side as she swung her tailblade at him, before lunging forward and ramming her with his horns. Stunned, she was unable to stop the powerful bolt of Convexity from striking her head.

Sparx nearly lost his lunch as bits of dragon brain and skull rained around him, and he zoomed over to Spyro's side.

"What do you need?" the dragonfly asked. He squeaked and dove behind Spyro's head as an elemental bolt zipped past, nearly burning off his small wings.

"Find Kindle and Ventus! Tell them to escort the moles to the breach!" Spyro yelled, raising an earth barrier as a flurry of dark energy bolts rushed at him. "We're almost done here!"

Sparx nodded, shocked by the ferocity of the battle, and quickly sped off. Spyro turned his attention back to the battle and blasted the earth wall into thousands of tiny shards, sending them flying into another wave of Tide.

Dozens of corrupted Aslorians fell to the ground as the shards tore through their bodies, spilling blood and entrails onto the cobblestone. In response, a large volley of dark energy bolts flew his way, prompting the dragon to phase into the shadows.

He erupted from underneath another group of anthros, his wickedly sharp talons slicing them to bloody ribbons. A corrupted Beast Maker roared and charged the purple dragon, who leapt to the side before blasting the Beast Maker with a beam of light.

The Beast Maker howled in pain as the beam tore off its tail, and began charging a sphere of corruption energy in its maw. It didn't get far, as a powerful blast of wind knocked it off balance before another dragon crashed into it.

Cynder burst onto the scene, a black blur of sharp spikes and claws. She tore into the corrupted dragons, rending them to shreds and spilling blackened blood onto the stone. The Beast Maker attempted to chomp on her leg, but a swipe from her tailblade and the dragon's head went rolling across the ground.

An ear-splitting shriek rang from the dragoness' mouth and slammed into the face of the Artisan. The grey-scaled dragon paused mid-step, frozen in fear, as Cynder lobbed a glob of acid into the dragon's face.

Cynder turned to her mate as the corrupted Artisan collapsed to the ground. The sound of sizzling flesh reached Spyro's ears, and he nearly gagged at the acrid stench. Cynder didn't seem to mind, if the grin on her face was anything to go by.

"So far so good! The Tide defense is starting to collapse, and their numbers are thinning!" she yelled over the din.

Spyro looked at the breach to see his mate was telling the truth. The other Guardians were leading the push through the Tide soldiers defending the hole, closely followed by the Guards.

The flow of enemies had stemmed, and out of the corner of his eye Spyro spotted the mole team moving forward. Leading their charge were Ventus and Kindle, backed up by a group of dragon Knights. They were making steady progress, plowing through Tide soldiers as if they weren't there.

"Come on, Spy! We've still got Tide at the breach to kill!" Cynder called.

"Well, let's not keep them waiting!" Spyro said with a grin. His mate returned the gesture, and the two dragons quickly rejoined their fellow Guardians. Together, the forces of Warfang charged the remaining Tide soldiers.

The fight was short and brutal, with the Guardians wreaking bloody havoc on the enemy. They cut through the largest groups of Tide soldiers, with the Guard picking off any stragglers.

As the last Tide soldier fell to the ground, the moles reached the area of the wall above the breach. There, they activated the device. A wall of earth sprung from the large cube, quickly covering and sealing the hole. The new stone glowed green as it settled, before turning a dull yellow like the rest of the wall.

The guards cheered and pumped their fists in the air at the sight. The dragon Knights atop the wall voiced their agreement, roaring into the sky.

Meanwhile, the Guardians gathered around Spyro and Cynder, breathing heavily as the adrenaline left their system.

"Is everyone okay?" Spyro asked, earning nods from his colleagues.

"Some cuts and bruises here and there, but nothing major," Terrador responded. He glanced over his shoulder towards the guards, who were rushing to treat the wounded. "The guards sustained heavy casualties though. The Tide really did a number on them."

"If this was just a scout force, imagine what a part of their army could achieve," Toxicar said, shuddering at the thought.

"Well, at least we drove them off," Cyril commented. "With any luck we won't se-"

"Spyro!" Kindle suddenly cried from atop the wall. Cyril snapped his mouth shut, and the Guardians looked up to see the fire Guardian peering over the edge.

"What is it?" the purple dragon called back.

"You need to see this!" she replied, panic filling her voice. The Guardians glanced at each other, worry pooling in their hearts, before they all ascended to her position on the wall.

* * *

"The scout force has been destroyed, ma'am."

"They were expendable. Did we get the information we need?" Mindula asked. The corrupted avian nodded.

"Yes. The scouts were able to make a hole in the wall that the uncorrupted are trying to repair, which we can exploit. They also haven't raised their shield yet, and it will take them time to power it up," said the falcon.

"Then it's time we made our move. Remove the disguise, and prepare our wake-up call," Mindula ordered. "We will wipe out their outlying defenses before moving in."

The deep humming noise of the machine vanished as it shut off, taking the magical field with it. Mindula grinned as the suppression field faded away, revealing the hidden army of corrupted beings.

Look on and despair, dragons, she thought, hearing the first calls of alert from the large golden wall. Your doom has arrived.4

* * *

The Guardians watched as the land shimmered before their eyes, standing in mute horror as the forest vanished. What took its place was something out of their worst nightmares.

Jaws fell open and eyes widened at the sight of the gigantic black mass filling the forests, valleys, hills, and plains surrounding Warfang. It was spread out across hundreds of miles, partially encircling Warfang.

This was the main Tide army, and they were ready to kill5.

Spyro could make out golems, siege engines, cannons, demons, alien species, elementals, spirits, and to his great dismay, corrupted Aslorians. In all, the Tide's numbers had to reach into the millions. This army was larger and more powerful than anything Warfang fielded.

"By the Gods," Kindle breathed.

"Is this what the other Kingdoms faced?" Toxicar asked. No one responded.

The cheers of the guards died as the sky darkened above the city, the air itself becoming energized. Every citizen of Warfang stopped what they were doing to watch as the very air itself became corrupted.

A swirling vortex of energies unlike any seen in Aslore began collecting above the Tide. The wind picked up and started to howl. Sparx huddled behind Spyro's neck, clinging onto his spines.

"What are they doing?" cried Umbra, as she dug her claws into the stone floor to keep the wind from blowing them away.

"It looks like some kind of energized maelstrom of epic proportions!" Volteer responded as he shielded himself with his wings.

"What did he say?" Ventus yelled, trying to create a protective shield around the Guardians. His attempts were for naught, as the force of the wind increased.

"The Tide is preparing something big!" Cynder shouted back. Lightning crackled across the sky, striking the land beyond the wall. The sky continued to darken, now turning a blackish-purple color.

Convexity… Spyro mused as he watched the vortex increase in size. They've brought Convexity to our world!

Deeper in the city, parents held their children close as they watched the sky change before their eyes. People screamed in fear and began running through the streets, mass hysteria quickly overtaking the population.

In front of the walls, the ground split where the bolts of energy struck, yellow mist seeping up from the cracks below. Creatures from another dimension crawled out of the ground and lumbered to the Tide army, somehow unaffected by the raging energies.

"The Tide found a way to harness Convexity! They're pulling in creatures from across the Realm into ours!" Spyro yelled in realization.

A loud humming noise reached the Guardians ears, and they looked up to the see vortex spinning rapidly. It began to take on the shape of a black, yellow, and purple sphere, otherworldly energies roiling within.

The sphere spun faster and faster, growing brighter as the humming increased.

"Incoming!"

Without warning, the sphere rushed towards the ground before slamming into it with an ear-splitting roar. A second later, a black wave of energy erupted from the Tide army and sped across the land in all directions, destroying everything in its path.

"Look out!" one of the dragon Knights yelled to the guards below, but it was too late.

"Brace yourselves!" Spyro yelled. Together, the Guardians cast a protective shield around as much of the city as they could, but it wasn't enough.

The wave of black energy slammed into the city, shaking it to its core. Entire sections of the massive walls instantly crumbled and fell. The Guardians held on, their barrier protecting their section of the wall and everyone contained within. They could feel unholy forces screeching against the barrier, doing its best to tear it down.

The wave of energy continued deep into Warfang, cutting through the mightiest city on Aslore.

All across Warfang, trees were crushed, towering buildings fell to the ground, and sections of the city were completely flattened. Boulders the size of large houses slammed into the residential areas, killing thousands and sending thick plumes of dust into the air. Glass shards were sent flying into the air, knocking down flying dragons and slicing through people on the streets below.

In the harbor, ships were smashed against the docks, and towering waves generated by the blast consumed the streets surrounding the bay. Houses were flooded before collapsing, their debris being pulled out to sea.

Not even buildings in the Inner City were safe. The support pillars for the Warfang Bank were blasted away by the energy wave, nullifying the magical enchantments placed on them. Physics took over, and the thirty story tower collapsed to the ground below.

The Temples floating high above the city were rocked by the blast as well. Most of them were able to right themselves before their magic failed, but one Temple had its spirit crystals shattered. With a loud groan, the magic holding up the Temple failed, and the several-thousand ton building crashed into the city below. A gigantic cloud of dust and debris was thrown into the air as a result, along with hundreds of people.

All the while, the corruptive energies of the wave collided violently with energies contained within the spirit gems spread across Warfang. Hundreds of thousands of boom's echoed throughout the city, as the gems exploded, sending crystal shards flying in every direction. Anyone caught too close was shredded to pieces.

Fires rapidly sprang up as a result of all the destruction, soon engulfing a large portion of Warfang. Bells and alarms began ringing all throughout the city, calling for anyone to fight the fire.

The entire time this was happening, the Guardians could hear the screams and cries of millions of people caught within the destruction. All they could do was sit and watch as the city crumbled before their eyes. In one move, the Tide destroyed nearly a quarter of Warfang, along with ending the lives of several million people.

"No…" Spyro breathed, his heart dropping like an anchor. His legs felt weak as he gazed upon the devastated city, tears beginning to form at the edges of his eyes.

I failed Warfang.

Spyro could feel the sadness and hopelessness roiling off his fellow Guardians. They were scared; afraid that they wouldn't be enough to stop the Tide.

I failed the Guardians.

A cold numbness began creeping through Spyro's veins, turning them icy cold. He felt cold, distant, like some icy hand was reaching for his heart. Images of Malefor and the destruction he caused across the world began flashing through his mind.

I failed the world.

"Ancestors help us," he heard Cynder whisper.

"What do we do?" Terroric asked.

"Not even Malefor did this much damage to the city!" said Typhonis.

"Please just let this end!" Sparx cried, his light now significantly diminished.

They don't know.

Spyro slowly turned around, his gaze drifting to the Tide army. He padded to the edge of of the wall, his face contorted in a scowl, and stared at the assembled army in front of him.

The Guardians quickly realized that their leader had moved, and joined him at the edge. As they did, the Tide army split down the middle, and a lone figure walked forward.

With their sharp eyes, the Guardians could make out the form of a corrupted Peace Keeper. Her yellow eyes gazed hungrily towards Warfang, and her mouth split into a wide, toothy grin.

"CITIZENS OF WARFANG, LISTEN WELL. YOUR WORLD HAS FALLEN. YOUR GODS HAVE ABANDONED YOU. THE OTHER KINGDOMS LIE IN RUIN. WARFANG IS THE LAST CITY STILL STANDING ON THE PLANET," she boomed.

Spyro's lips curled upwards in a vicious sneer.

I won't abandon them!

"THERE IS NO HOPE FOR ANY OF YOU. WE ARE COMING FOR YOUR SOULS, AND THERE IS NOTHING YOU CAN DO TO STOP US!"

You can't stop ME!

A rage, one not felt in a very long time, roared through Spyro's veins. The numbness in his head faded away, replaced by the fires of vengeance. His eyes turned a blazing white, and the markings, hidden on his back for thirty years, began glowing a bright yellow.

The other Guardians took a step backwards at the sight of Spyro's newfound power, eyes wide with fear.

"Spyro!" Cynder warned, taking a step towards her mate. She could feel his anger and rage seeping through their soul-bond. "What are you doing!?"

"Bro, I'm not sure if you-" Sparx started. Spyro ignored both of them, and leapt into the air.

"IF YOU WANT OUR SOULS, THEN COME AND GET THEM6!" Spyro roared to the Tide, pure rage filling his soul. The air around him shimmered and warped as he drew upon the vast energies of Time and Convexity. A purple and gold blast of energy burst from the purple dragon's maw and rocketed towards the corrupted dragoness.

It was impossible for her to dodge.

The Convexity Blast, infused with fragments of Time energy, clashed with the corruptive power of the Tide, resulting in a tremendous golden-purple explosion. The blast vaporized Mindula, thousands of Tide soldiers, and everything else within a mile radius of the epicenter.

The Guardians shielded their eyes from the bright explosion. A second later, the shockwave knocked them back a few feet, before an earsplitting BANG reached their ears.

As the energy faded away, the Guardians took in the aftermath of Spyro's new ability. Where thousands of Tide soldiers and corrupted Aslorians used to be was a gigantic crater. War machines and siege weapons had been blown apart, along with any unfortunate trees caught in the blast.

The Tide itself were in disarray. All of their commanders had been caught in the blast, and without anyone to reign them in, infighting began in earnest. The sounds of clashing steel and weapons firing in the distance filled the air.

Spyro suddenly groaned, and the Guardians looked up to see him falling out of the air. Momentarily forgetting about the Tide, Cynder leapt straight up, catching her mate before he hit the ground. As her eyes gazed over his unconscious form, she gasped. The other Guardians gathered around their fallen leader, eyes widening at the sight before them.

Spyro's scales had turned from purple to an ashen gray, and his yellow horns and plates had faded to a near white. The red membrane between his wings and fins had become pitch black, giving the dragon a skeletal appearance.

"Oh no," Cynder whispered, placing a paw on her mate's chest. She couldn't feel his heart beating. It was the event with the crystal all over again. "Please Spyro, don't do this to us!"

"What is it?" Lumar asked,

"Spyro, come on! Wake up!" Cynder yelled, shaking the purple dragon. Spyro let out a groan. The luster returned to his scales, and he became the purple dragon of legend once more.

"What happened?" he asked, groggily. He raised his only, only to be slapped across the cheek by Cynder. Spyro yelped at the sharp sting of her claws.

"Don't you ever do that again!" Cynder practically screeched, causing the other Guardians to jump.

"What did I do?" Spyro asked innocently. Cynder, Sparx, and the other Guardians gave him an incredulous look.

"Aside from blowing up a shitload of Tide with that insane ability of yours, not much else!" Sparx replied, pointing towards the large crater several miles away. Spyro looked to where his brother was pointing, and his eyes instantly widened.

"I… I did that?" Spyro asked, awestruck by the sight.

"Yeah! You got this really weird look in your eye, then leapt into the air, challenged the Tide commander, and then proceeded to blow the shit out of her!" Sparx recounted for the dragon.

Spyro shook his head. "I don't remember any of that," he stated. He turned to the Guardians, surprise written on his face.

"Where did you learn to use such an ability?" asked Terrador, narrowing his eyes at the purple dragon. "We've seen you use Convexity before, but never something that powerful."

"I-I didn't learn it!" Spyro defended himself. "All I remember is getting this weird, angry feeling, and then the next thing I know I wake up here," he gestured to the ground.

"There's also those markings that just appeared on your back. Any idea where those came from?" Ventus asked, pointing to the angular lines that ran across the dragon's scales.

Spyro shook his head again. "I'm sorry, I just don't know where any of this came from." He blinked several times as his body was hit by a sudden fatigue, and he collapsed to the ground.

Cynder opened her mouth, about to call Spyro, when she noticed the sounds of distant fighting had faded. Everyone else did too, if the way they looked to the land beyond Warfang was any indication.

The Tide had halted their in-fighting, and had refocused on the big target at hand: the city of Warfang. A low roar swept across the land as the forward lines of the Tide charged at the city. Hundreds of thousands of corrupted creatures rushed through the plains and fields towards Warfang, causing the very ground to shake.

"It looks like they're coming back!" Sparx yelled, his earlier fear returning as he watched the Tide advanced across the land.

Fortunately for the defenders, it seemed like the Tide had completely forgotten that they had artillery and heavy weapons to back them up. We can use that to our advantage, Cynder thought, a plan forming in her mind.

The black dragoness turned to the shaking yellow dragonfly hovering beside her. "Sparx, I need you to rush back to the Spire and tell Tremor to mobilize the entire Warfangian Army, raise the danger level to Gamma Black, and activate Warfang's Magi-field as soon as possible."

Sparx glanced over at the ruins of the once proud city, the screams and cries filling his ears once more.

"But what about the damage done to the city? Millions of people still need help!"

"And if we don't receive reinforcements soon along with getting that field activated, there won't be any citizens left to save!" Cynder snapped back, pointing to the advancing army.

Sparx's gaze shifted back and forth between the rushing army and the city, his tiny body quaking with nervousness.

"Now, Sparx!"

The dragonfly yelped and nodded before zipping off. Cynder turned around to the other Guardians, a look of determination on her face. Her thoughts ran a mile a minute as everything she knew about defending a stronghold came rushing to her.

With Spyro effectively out of the fight, it was up to her to lead the defense. "Until reinforcements arrive, we need to hold off the Tide as long as we can," she spoke after several moments of silence. "That means we need elemental barriers up, those cannons manned, and soldiers spread out along the wall."

The Guardians nodded and began running or flying off, preparing their elemental barriers. There were no arguments when it came to the defense of Warfang, and with Cynder having the best plan, the Guardians listened without question.

Having done that, Cynder turned to her purple mate lying on the floor. Spyro had regained consciousness, and was currently attempting to stand up.

"Lift me up," Spyro groaned, his legs wobbling like crazy. His muscles screamed in pain, but the purple dragon ignored it. He looked at Cynder, his amethyst eyes filled with a righteous fire. "I can help!'

Cynder caught her mate right as his legs gave out. She gently lowered him to the ground, "You did help, Spyro. You killed their leader and turned them against each other! You bought us time to prepare!" she said, gazing deep into Spyro's eyes.

"But you need to take it easy for now. That Convexity Blast drained a lot out of you. You're in no position to fight," she said. "We'll get through this Spyro, one way or another. Warfang may be in ruin and under siege, but we won't go down without a fight."

* * *

"Neydor, give me a status report!" Dyros spoke into the portal, having to shout over the din of weapons fire and the clashing of metal on metal.

"The Tide has captured another Terrasian tower and is making huge gains in our plane! Right now they're pushing for the Xiron valley, and we can barely hold them off!" the God of Destiny replied. He swore, and Dyros heard him fire a couple shots at something. "The Celestials are doing their best, but we're beginning to get overrun!"

"Fallback and regroup with Hyeyar at the Shaldron Ridge! Once you link up, stall their forces at the Mydan Pass! I'll see if I can send some reinforcements!" Dyros told the God, his mind racing with thousands of different ideas and plans.

Now what do we do? the God asked himself. With another Terrasian tower down, the

The Terrasian towers were built by a long-gone species as pillars to connect the planes of mortals and Gods together. Five of them were spread across the plane of the Gods, while ten were placed on Aslore. So far, nine of the Aslorian towers had been captured, with Warfang sitting on top of the last one.

Even if one mortal tower was left, Aslorians could still get in touch with the Gods as long as all five towers on their plane were intact. With two of the five out of service, neither plane could communicate with each other.

There's got to be a way to help our children, Dyros thought as he looked over the . Without us, they have no way of beating the Tide.

The sound of whipping wind suddenly cut through the room, capturing the attention of those in the room. Dyros turned around to see Windwing, the Goddess of Messengers, teleport into the room. She panted heavily, her midnight black armor heaving with her body

"Dyros!" she called out urgently, and rushed up to the Sun God.

"What is it?" he asked.

"The Tide just hit Warfang with a massive weapon! The outer wall is practically gone, and the Tide is rushing towards them as we speak!"

Dyros' eyes widened, as did those of the other Gods in the room. The Sun God turned away from Windwing, his mind coming to a screeching halt.

"Was he there?" Dyros asked in a cold tone, causing the other Gods to glance at each other. The Sun God rarely used that tone, reserving it for enemies he had a personal vendetta with.

The Deceiver definitely qualified as something Dyros would have a vendetta with. Everyone had seen the death and destruction it had brought to Aslore.

"No sir, and the one in charge was killed by Spyro. The enemy's attacking the city en masse now," Windwing told him. "The wall won't hold them for long, not with those numbers."

"Thank you Windwing. Go rest; you deserve it," the God commanded. Windwing bowed before teleporting away, and the Gods went back to their work.

Dyros let out a heavy sigh. The weight of his job was slowly getting to him. He needed a way to end the Tide (preferably without getting the Warmaster involved), and he needed it now.

Closing his eyes, Dyros opened up his mind and telepathically searched for Kytresa. Hopefully she was having better luck in her battle than the mortal plane.

"Kytresa, how goes your battle?" Dyros asked telepathically. A second later, he saw a massive field . He was looking through Kytresa's eyes as she scanned the horizon.

"We were able to defeat the Tide force here. We lost many of our numbers, but a victory is a victory," the Goddess said. She took flight, giving Dyros an aerial view.

"We discovered some very important weaknesses about the Tide. Fire, electricity, water, earth, wind, and the other main elements are weak against everything but corrupted anthros. Only the special elements do actual damage against everything else," Kytresa told her brother.

"So, the light, darkness, convexity, death, life, fury, soul, and time elements are the only ones that work?" Dyros questioned.

"Those are the elements that do any effective damage against the larger enemies, such as dragons, demons, and golems. The main elements are good against small enemies, special elements are good against everything," Kytresa corrected.

"I'll let the others know.

Dyros nodded, and turned to the other Gods in the room. "I've got some important information for everyone!"

"Kytresa has discovered that the special elements are the most effective against the Tide! If your forces are able to use the special elements, switch to them! If not, group up with other deities that do!"

Everyone in the room nodded and went back to their work, shifting and changing their battle plans to work with Kytresa's advice. As the other Gods went back to work, Dyros walked up to the window at the front of the room and looked through it.

Off in the far distance of space, he could see the corruption slowly taking over Aslore, turning it a sickening black and brown. It was a far cry from the blue and green jewel he and the other Gods loved.

The Tide would pay dearly for their invasion.

"Dyros, I've finished my analysis of the Tide's invasion," said Jiton, the dragon God of Fate. Dyros turned to the black and silver dragon, a look of determination plastered on his face.

"And?" the God asked.

"In short, we're screwed. With two Terrasian towers down, and Warfang under attack, we're looking at the entire destruction of Aslore within, hell, two months. After that, the Tide will shift its focus to our plane. Without the mortals giving us strength, we will stand no chance," Jiton dipped his head in defeat.

Dyros sighed, and rubbed his eyes. He looked around the room before asking, "do you see any other way?"

Jiton shook his head, much to the dismay of the Sun God. "Now would be a good time to put that plan of contacting the Warmaster into motion."

Dyros sighed again. "I know. But Spyro and Cynder are the only ones who can conceivably contact them."

"Why can't we?" Jiton asked, confused. Dyros looked around again before leaning in close to Jiton.

"Before we exiled them, several Warmasters, using the fragments of their dead God's soul, locked their Realm. Anything us Gods try to send them will get blocked. However," Dyros conjured up an image of Spyro, "a purple dragon won't be."

"And how can Spyro do what we can't?"

"The purple dragon is the most powerful being alive on Aslore. He can send them our plea for help, and they will hear it," Dyros said with conviction.

The large God turned and strode to the table in the middle of the room, with Jiton following close behind. He took a couple large steps to catch up with Dyros' stride.

"Yes, the Warmasters will hear the message Dyros, but that's not the problem. The problem is telling Spyro what he needs to do. With another Tower down, there's no way to effectively communicate with the mortal world," Jiton argued.

"Is it possible for us to still physically go to Aslore?" Dyros asked. The question threw Jiton off-guard.

"Well… yes, I suppose. The loss of two towers prevents us from communicating with the mortals or using Avatars to speak with them, but your power should be enough to allow you to appear on Aslore," the black dragon told him.

"Yes..." the Sun God trailed off, his brow creasing in thought. "Yes. That might work."

"What will?" Jiton gave him a curious eye.

"Nidos, Atia!" Dyros called out. The avatars of the two dragons turned to look at the sun God.

"Nidos, tell Ignitus to contact Spyro and Cynder and have them go to the Pryhl mountain range. He'll have to activate the White Isle's Chrono protocol after that so the Tide doesn't home in on his location,"

"Are you sure about that, Dyros? The Tempusians are not the most accepting to other dragons, even if they are a God's chosen," said the gray dragon. Dyros waved him off.

"They'll have to live with it. The Chronicler plays a more role important than they realize," the Sun God countered, and turned to his mate.

"Atia, prepare a message to broadcast across the Realms. You know who it's going for, so make sure it speaks to them. The Warmasters will likely need a lot of convincing to come help us," he told his mate. Atia nodded, and hastily left the room.

"How do you plan on doing this without two of the pillars?" Jiton asked. He cocked his head, frills extending in confusion.

Dyros smirked and turned to look at the Fate God.

"Tell me Jiton, have you heard of a place called 'The Chamber of the Lost?'"

* * *

**And scene! Cliffhangers, you gotta love em'!**

**I hope everyone enjoyed the action in this chapter. We're getting into the part of the story that I'm really excited for, which is the siege and battle for Warfang. Big events are coming, so stay tuned!**

**Please leave a review, they go a long way with my writing, and have a nice day!**


	10. A2: C4a (9): The Siege of Warfang, pt 1

**AN: Hey everyone, long time no see! School has been hectic, and there's been very little time for me to work on this. Fortunately, winter break arrived, and I was able to pump this part of chapter 9 out!**

**I hope the holidays were good for everyone. Mine definitely were.**

**Music for this chapter:**

**1\. ****Siege Towers – Audio Machine [GRV Extended Remix]**

**Aslore months (Aslorian Common) = Earth months:**

**Aas = January**

**Yiln = February**

**Maur = March**

**Qlist = April**

**Criw = May**

**Exard = June  
Gecus = July**

**Ikall = August**

**Sruln = September**

**Druvirt = October**

**Frurst = November**

**Karis = December**

**Now that we're getting into combat, I'm going to introduce some terms for military organization within the Warfang military. I've modeled the Warfang military off of current US organization. One thing to note is there are different types of these units within the Warfang military. For example, a squad of riflemen and a squad of swordsmen will have the same numbers, but different roles.**

**Warfang organization (Aslorian common) = US organization**

**Histven = Squad**

**Micrik = Platoon**

**Carnkio = Company**

**Vinto = Battalion**

**Xezort = Brigade**

**Derzin = Division**

**Tonir = Corps**

**Also, the term Corrupted refers to Aslorians that had their souls turned and corrupted by the Tide. The Corrupted are part of the Tide.**

**If anyone is getting confused about how the Aslorian language works, don't worry. It'll be explained in several chapters, along with a total conversion to English.**

**IMPORTANT: I'm going to be removing Zirra and the rest of the Adalisks from ALitD. I honestly don't feel like I can do very much with them, considering the fact that not a whole lot of information has been given about them. There's also the fact that I haven't come up with a good way to integrate them with the history of Aslore and other characters, and that I don't think I can write Adalisks that well. (There are other reasons I'm doing this, but they are personal.)**

**Anyway, enjoy the chapter. **

**Thank you.**

**Disclaimers:**

**TLoS and characters belong to Activision.**

**Toothless and the Night Fury species belongs to Dreamworks.**

**The Kuros species belongs to WeirdHyenas (deviantart). **

**Kindle belongs to DragonCid (deviantart).**

**The Guardians Typhonis, Terroric, Ventus, Toxica, Umbran, Lumar and Miakis, along with Starlight, Briam and other original characters belong to me.**

**The plot belongs to me.**

**I have permission to use the characters and species that aren't mine.**

**Chapter 9 part 1: The Siege of Warfang Part 1**

* * *

_Ikall 2__nd__, Season of Fire, Year 30, 77__th__ Age_

_Horian Gate, Warfang Outskirts, Avalar_

_2:13 AM_

"Fire!"1

The cannons roared, sending hundreds of element-infused shells downrange. Explosions dotted the valley as the deadly projectiles tore through the Tide ranks. Anthros and small ferals were crushed, while dragons and larger ferals were blown apart by the force of the blasts.

The Tide returned fire with their massive siege guns, firing shells the size of small dragons. The glowing red projectiles streaked across the night sky before impacting the magical barrier that surrounded the outer walls. The shield shimmered as it absorbed the impact before fading away, a blue tinge in the air the only sign it existed.

"Reload! Prepare for another volley! Explosive Kinetic Impactors, fire-infused!" shouted the artillery commander. Loading crews composed of anthros hastily opened the breech and inserted the next shell, already infused with elemental and magical properties. They slammed the breech shut and locked it before cranking a handle on the side. Runes on the detailed barrel lit up, indicating the cannon was ready to fire. Already, the inside of the barrel glowed from barely contained energies, ready to propel the shell at hundreds of miles per hour.

"Fire!"

Lightning cracked overhead as the cannons fired again, another few hundred shells detonating amongst the Tide horde. Dozens were instantly vaporized by the heat of the detonations, while thousands felt the effects of sonic over-pressure. Bodies were torn apart, organs collapsed, and limbs were torn off by the force of the blast, the shockwave's dramatically increasing the kill-count.

Nearly two thousand Corrupted were killed by the volley. This was before the magic of the rounds kicked in.

Powerful fire spells, enhanced by fragments of green energy crystals, were free of the magical restraints placed on the shells. There was a tremendous _roar_, and the defenders watched as several hundred fireballs slowly rose over the Tide assault.

Ten thousand Corrupted were incinerated by the spells, with thousands more given intense burns from the heat.

It didn't stop the Tide. Not in any way. Their fur or scales may have burnt away, their sloughing off, their limbs too damaged too continue running. They just kept going. Far past the limits of any normal creature.

The Tide didn't care that ten thousand Corrupted were killed in the volley. It didn't care that the defenders killed thousands of them every second. Losses didn't matter to the Tide. For every thousand Corrupted lost, ten thousand took their place.

In a game of attritional warfare, the Tide would always win.

Up on the walls, the artillery unit watched as a fresh wave of Corrupted charged forward, replacing the lost numbers of the previous wave. Realizing that losses didn't matter to the Tide, the artillery unit reloaded and prepared to fire again.

This continued all across Warfang's outer walls, a perimeter some 100 miles long. Tens of thousands of Warfang soldiers fired at the Tide with everything they had: crossbows, elemental guns, cannons, breath attacks, furies, magic, even the catapults of old Warfang were pulled out of storage to fight the Tide.

Above Warfang, the translucent blue magi-field shimmered as more Tide weaponry smashed against it. It had been activated only minutes after Spyro's devastating attack, and not a moment too soon. Tide siege weapons that had survived the blast began bombarding the outer wall, nearly causing several sections to collapse.

The shield rumbled as another volley of Tide weapons broke against the magi-field. Cynder glanced up at the sound and watched as the shield rippled from the impacts. She noticed a green hue in the air where the rounds hit. Small shockwaves lashed at the shield, but had little effect.

_Earth-shatterers_, the dragoness thought, recognizing the type of rounds. Like their namesake, earth-shatterers were designed to create miniature earthquakes that shattered the very earth. They were highly effective against building, structures, and anything not bolted down.

_If it weren't for that shield, we could kiss this entire section goodbye,_ she thought, snarling internally.

Another volley smacked against the shield with similar results. Cynder frowned, and watched closely as a third volley impacted the shield. This time, she traced the arc of the shells, her natural night-vision making it seem as bright as day, and followed the rounds back to their origin point: the Trinan forest, about ten miles north of the wall.

A smirk graced the black dragoness' muzzle as an idea crossed her mind. Some payback was in order. Turning on her heel, she trotted towards the nearest artillery unit, her tail twitching in excitement.

She was forced to shift to her anthro form as she stepped onto the busy walkway. Riflemen ran to acquire new targets, loaders wheeled carts full of shells to artillery units, mages called upon powerful magics to assist the troops, and medics handed out green or red crystals to anyone who needed them.

_I've never seen such coordination from the army before_, she mused, watching as a _histven _of riflemen paired up with an artillery unit to take out a large group of Corrupted trying to sneak across the valley. The artillery took out the main body, while the riflemen picked off any stragglers. _Then again, the only time I saw the army in action was 15 years ago_.

Someone shouted to her left, and Cynder hugged the wall, her armor clanging against the stone, as a cannon with a warped and partially melted barrel was hastily rolled past her. Molten metal slowly dripped off the cannon, sizzling as it made contact with the cold stone.

The moles pushing the cannon, one yellow and one blue, yelped as one of the wheels abruptly broke off and the gun fell to its side with a _crash_. One of the moles swore under his breath as the two of them tried to right the gun.

"Gods-dammit!"

"Hey, move it you two!"

Shouts of indignation rose from other soldiers whose path was cut off, but were quickly silenced at the sight of Cynder. She glared at the ones that shouted, who gulped, saluted, and then went to find alternate routes around the wall.

Cynder rolled her eyes as a wave of frustration rolled through her. _I swear, for all their touted 'best of the best', those soldiers certainly act like kids at times._

Her frustration only increased as one of the moles started yelling at the other for failing to keep the gun steady. A low growl began in her chest, but she squashed it before she scared the moles.

_Such incompetence._

"Here, let me," Cynder said through clenched teeth. The two moles jumped in surprise upon hearing her voice.

"Oh! Master Guardian, we didn't see you there!" the mole to her right chittered, moving out of the way for the anthros dragoness.

"It's fine," Cynder snapped, and righted the gun. She held it in place, careful not to touch the hot barrel, as the mole in blue quickly settled the wheel back on the axis.

"What happened to the gun?" Cynder asked the yellow mole, an angry edge to her tone. The mole either didn't hear the edge or he didn't care as he inspected the cannon for any other major defects.

He shrugged in response to Cynder's question. "I don't know. One minute it was firing fine, the next the barrel was melting to the ground," he replied, pointing at the cannon as it continued to drip molten metal.

Summoning her wind powers, Cynder gently blew on the red-hot barrel. It sizzled as its temperature dropped, the color turning from a bright red to a dark yellow. With the barrel re-solidified, the

"Thank you, master Guardian," the yellow mole said. He motioned to his partner, and the two of them began wheeling the cannon away. Cynder turned and watched as they pushed the heavy weapon to the nearest forge.

A dark theory popped into her mind as she thought about the melted barrel. Before the moles moved entirely out of earshot, she yelled to them. "Did you notice anything out of the ordinary when the barrel melted?"

Both moles turned and shook their heads before moving on. Cynder growled again, her anger at the Tide only increasing.

_Strange. No magic should be able to penetrate the shield, especially with the emitters set to full_, Cynder mulled over the mystery, her muzzle morphing into a frown. _Could the Tide have already found a way to get through our shield?_

With the cannon out of the way, foot traffic increased on the wall, and Cynder hurriedly moved out of the way as anthros and ferals swarmed the walkway.

She moved when there was a break in the crowd, her lithe body easily slipping between people. Soldiers gave her a large berth as she padded down the walkway. Eager to get to the nearest _armign_, the dragoness picked up her pace.

As she passed over the gate, she glanced down to the field hospital set up right below the walkway. It was a simple building, constructed with wood, cloth, and sheet metal, but what it lacked in substance it made up for in size and accessibility.

The field hospital was in a fairly good position, Cynder noted. It was close to the wall, which made it harder to hit with artillery, but not too far that wounded soldiers would die before receiving treatment. The hospital's distance also meant it would take time for Corrupted to reach it once they broke through the shield.

Cynder was honestly surprised how quickly they had gotten the hospital built. The army had started putting it up several hours ago, around the time they arrived at the Horian Gate. Already the hospital stretched across several blocks, and the black dragoness could see a steady stream of doctors, medics, and patients going in and out of the building.

As she stared at the building below her, the dragoness' gaze panned down, where she saw a small circle of dragon Knights surrounding Spyro. A small magical shield protected the Knights and their charge, in case Corrupted somehow found a way past the shield.

Cynder had her mate moved to the hospital once the artillery began firing at the wall. It pained her to see him in that coma-like state that left him dead to the world. The Knights assured her they would take care of him until he woke up, and she was grateful they were close by.

Aside from the other Guardians, she couldn't ask for anyone better to defend her mate.

Dragon Knights were the most powerful warriors in Warfang, right after the Guardians. Trained in the arts of _Ata-Drin_, (the hardest and strongest form of elemental manipulation), wielding powerful lances tuned to their personal energies and capable of calling upon some of the most powerful spells in the world, Knights were a force unto themselves.

Seeing that her mate was safe for now, Cynder continued her walk.

As she trotted along the cobblestone, Cynder's thoughts turned to the other Guardians and how they were doing. She had ordered them to spread out across the outer wall and assist the local defenders until reinforcements arrived. It seemed they had succeeded, what with there being no sign of a major breach or collapse.

And now, with the shield up, there wasn't really any need for the Guardians to go on the offensive.

However, as she learned in both the Great War and the more recent Crystal War, Guardians were powerful symbols of hope and inspiration. The mere presence of a Guardian on the battlefield greatly boosted morale and lifted the spirits of weary warriors and soldiers.

The deafening sound of cannon-fire tore her from her thoughts, and she instinctively muted the air around her head to deafen the noise. She glanced around and found the _armign_ set up on a balcony to her right.

Turning, the dragoness walked onto the turret. The smell of burning fire-powder and explosive magic filled her nostrils, nearly causing her to gag. Looking around, she counted 14 golden cannons on the balcony, all lined up in one neat row. A stone wall towered over the artillery and their crews, with holes for the barrels to peek out.

Most importantly, the _armign_ had a good view of the forest off in the distance. From here, she could wipe out a good portion of Tide artillery in one fell swoop.

Her scaly lips curled upward in a smile. _Perfect_.

**Pling! Ping!**

Cynder jumped back as a volley of Tide elemental bolts and cannonballs bounced off the magi-field right in front of the turret. The cannon crews didn't even flinch, too wrapped up in the task of reloading their cannons.

_The Tide probably thinks it can cause a partial collapse of the shield. Idiots_. _Can't they see they're having no effect? _Cynder thought, shaking her head. _Now, where's the commander?_

"Reload!" someone at the front of the unit called out.

_Found him._

The commander turned out to be a plain brown and white eagle garbed in the gold and purple armor of the Warfang army. A pauldon with Warfang's symbol and a five-point crystal sat on his right shoulder, indicating he was the commander of the _armign_.

She made to walk towards the commander when a night fury scout landed next to him. Cynder paused, and watched as the scout quickly chatted with the eagle. The scouted pointed at an area to the east, and the commander brought out a pair of binoculars. He looked in the direction pointed for a few seconds before turning and nodding.

The scout flew off, while the commander brought up his binoculars again. Without looking, he shouted out to his _armign._ "Re-shift aim! Ten degrees north, five degrees east! Range: three miles! Angle: 31 degrees! Ammunition: explosive magic!"

"Yes sir!" the unit replied. Cynder watched with rapt attention as the crews hastily made changes to their cannons – re-aiming the barrels, adjusting their elevation, applying the correct shell-type to the round.

"Cannons ready, sir!" the sub-commander yelled.

"Fire!"

The crews covered their ears as the cannons fired, rocking slightly in their stands. Small bits of dust were kicked up as 14 explosive cannonballs screamed out of their barrels, exited through the semi-permeable shield, and detonated over a _carniko_ of Corrupted.

Once again Cynder muted the air around her. What she didn't expect was the small pressure wave released from the firing of the cannons. A rumble filled her chest as the pressure wave hit her, and she took a slight step backwards.

"Good effect on target, sir!" one of the spotters called out.

"Roger that! Reload those guns! Same position!"

"Yes sir!"

With the cannons reloading, Cynder decided to make her entrance. She walked onto the turret, her armor clinking with each step. One of the soldiers spotted her, and instantly saluted. "Attention! Guardian on deck!" he yelled.

Every other soldier stopped what they were doing and turned to the Guardian, all of them snapping salutes.

Cynder felt dozens of pairs of eyes on her, each pair ready to do whatever she ordered. A brief moment of uncertainty lapsed over her, but she quickly shook it off. The memories from years of leading armies came back to her, and she gave the soldiers a curt nod.

"Master Guardian! I didn't know you were coming here!" the avian squawked, stepping up to the dragoness, his head barely reaching her shoulders. "The Tide's really pushing hard to get to the wall, but we've been holding them off, ma'am!" Cynder looked around the turret again, the crews having gone back to reloading the cannons.

"Good job, commander…"

The avian's eyebrows shot up. "Oh, my apologies. I am commander Rikus, 13th _armign_," the eagle saluted. "Is there something you require of us?"

Cynder nodded, a smirk forming on her muzzle. "I have a new target for your unit, captain."

"A – new target?" the avian asked, his brow creasing in wonder.

Cynder nodded and pointed to the forest off in the far distance. Rikus turned and raised his binoculars, following her finger. He scanned that area for a few seconds before turning to the Guardian, confusion written on his face.

"There's nothing there."

Cynder shook her head. "Wrong. That's where some of the Tide artillery is located."

"How do you know?"

"I followed the arc of their cannon shells."

"How did you-?"

"Magic," Cynder answered, annoyed. _Technically, I'm telling the truth_. "I want you and your unit to fire a volley of earth-shatterer rounds into the forest. It should knock out a good portion of their siege weapons," Cynder instructed.

Rikus looked at the forest again. He was silent for a couple seconds, before addressing the dragoness again. "Are you sure their artillery is there?"

Cynder sighed in exasperation. "I'm positive. I bet the Tide placed some cloaking device on their artillery, similar to the one they used to hide their entire army."

Rikus paused again as he stared at the forest, before nodding and turning to the dragoness. "Alright. We'll fire a volley," he said. Cynder smiled. Finally

A spotter handed Rikus a sheet of paper, which the avian skimmed over before calling out to his _armign_. "Re-shift aim! 20 degrees north, 35 degrees west! Range: Ten miles! Angle: 70 degrees! Ammunition: Earth-shatterers!"

"Yes sir!"

The crews went about making the adjustments to their cannons, and were finished within a minute.

"Cannons ready sir!"

"Fire!"

Cynder cast another mute spell as the _armign_ fired, sending 14 cannonballs whistling through the air. The rounds arced high over the Tide offensive lines. If any Corrupted were confused as to why a volley wasn't aimed at them, none of them showed it.

Eleven seconds later, the cannonballs slammed into the middle of the Trinan forest, erupting with the force of ten earth furies. In seconds, everything within several hundred feet of impact was destroyed. Trees were uprooted, stone cracked and fell apart, and the ground shattered as powerful miniature earthquakes buffeted the area. Cracks formed in the earth, swallowing up anything

The Tide artillery unit taking position within the forest was torn apart by the rounds. Cannons were shattered, flattened, or fell into the fissures and sent to the depths below. Wickedly sharp pieces of enchanted metal tore through the surrounding environment, cutting through trees, bodies, and anything else in their path.

The Corrupted, however, fared the worst. The shockwaves pummeled their bodies, tearing off limbs, pulping organs, and turning them to mush. Cracks in the ground swallowed up and crushed others, as shrapnel tore up dozens more.

In extreme cases, some Corrupted instantly burst from the pressure as others became red smears on the ground.

As Corrupted and their artillery were torn apart, the shockwaves continued on, slamming into the Tide's ammunition stores. The magical containment fields surrounding the cannonballs broke, allowing the energy from the earth-shatters to tear open the casings. Concentrated magic and elemental energy was introduced into the surrounding environment, where it reacted with the local magic fields.

The result was catastrophic.

A massive explosion, similar in size to Spyro's Convexity blast, tore through the Trinan forest and beyond. In less than a second the forest was flattened and laid bare, leaving only burning husks of trees and rubble.

The Tide army was knocked to the ground by the force of the blast. Siege towers were blown apart when the shockwave hit, sending pieces of metal and wood to the ground below.

Miles away, hundreds of Warfang defenders shielded their eyes as the blast lit up the sky. The shield rumbled as the shockwaves smashed against it with enough force to blow apart a house.

The jaws of the entire 13th _armign_ hit the floor, having never seen an explosion of such scale.

Cynder merely smiled. She gazed at the rapidly disappearing fireball a moment longer before turning and walking away.

"Thank you for your assistance, commander Rikus." The avian quietly saluted as the Guardian passed him, his eyes glued to the sight before him. He tore his eyes away from the explosion to watch as Cynder stepped onto the walkway and disappeared around the corner. "You-you're welcome?"

Rikus stared at the corner for a few seconds before shifting his gaze to his _armign_. "Get back to work men! We've still got a battle to win!" A chorus of replies rang out, and the soldiers went back to loading the cannons.

Cynder grinned as she padded along the walkway, thoroughly pleased with herself. _I hope the Tide liked my little gift_, she giggled. _I honestly didn't expect the explosion to be _that_ big._

Much of her mounting frustration and anger had vanished at the sight of the Tide's ammunition detonating, and aside from her exhaustion, she felt pretty relieved. It was like a great pressure had been released in her head, giving her breathing room and a space to think.

Still, the ever-present sense of dread remained, and she doubted it would ever go away. _Well, at least until the Tide is defeated_.

"Master Guardian!"

The dragoness stopped in her tracks, and turned to see a Knight land on the walkway in front of her. Shifting to her feral form, Cynder took a step towards the heavily armored dragon.

"What is it, Knight Arkin?" Cynder hoped she got his name right.

"Spyro woke up a couple minutes ago, and I-" Whatever Arkin was about to say was cut off as Cynder leapt from the walkway, a burst of wind enhancing her speed."

"Oh for the love of Dyros," Arkin muttered, quickly spreading his wings to follow the Guardian.

* * *

Spyro woke to a throbbing head and a body that ached all over.

He tried to open his eyes, but discovered that they remained sealed. Relying on his hearing, he could hear the sounds of weapons of the wind blowing, crackling fires, and… was that weapons fire?

"Urgh," he groaned. His head throbbed painfully, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't move it. In fact, none of his limbs decided to move, and a flash of fear ran through the dragon. Where was he? How did he get here? How come he couldn't move his body, and why didn't he remember

Suddenly, it all came rushing back to him: the Tide breaching the wall, the ensuing fight, the massive Tide weapon that devastated Warfang, the hot rage that rushed through him…

His eyes opened up. It was early morning, if the darkness was anything to go by, but everything was blurry. It still begged the question:

Why was he lying on the ground?

"He's coming around. Quick, Arkin, go get Cynder! She'll want to be here!" someone shouted to his right, and the dragon flinched as another jolt of pain erupted in his head.

Looking up, the purple dragon could make out several blurry figures standing above him.

"Wh-wha…?" he grunted, his mouth refusing to make proper noises. He heard his mate's name; where was she? Why wasn't Cynder with him?

"Take it easy, master Guardian. Your body is still recovering," one of the figures said. Spyro felt a light pressure on his chest, before a warmth began spreading throughout his body. Feeling slowly returned to his limbs, and within seconds he found he could flex his toes.

"That should help, for now," the figure said, before backing up and looking at the other figures. "He'll need a few minutes for his body to fully wake-up, so make sure he doesn't move much."

Spyro blinked as the blurriness in his vision began to fade away, revealing three dragons standing over him. They were all adorned in silver armor, with multicolored crystals embedded into the thick plating. His eyes flicked over a symbol – a golden lance pointed up, with wings sprouting from either side, all encompassed by a dragon eye.

_Knights_, he realized, eyes widening. Why were Warfang Knights with him?

"What-what happened?" the purple dragon coughed, catching the attention of the two dragons standing over him. He tried to stand, but one of the Knights stepped forward and gently pressed against his body.

"Master Guardian, you shouldn't move too much. It'll put unnecessary strain on your body." The Knight summoned a green crystal from a small cluster several feet away, and held it in front of the purple dragon.

Spyro felt the energy of the crystal seeping into his veins, invigorating him and filling his body with magic. He closed his eyes, letting the crystal do its work.

"So uh, you mind telling me what the hell's going on?" he asked the Knights. They glanced at each other, before the one on the right opened his mouth to speak.

He was interrupted by someone else. "Spyro!" The purple dragon's heart leapt at that voice. It was Cynder! She could tell him what was going on, and why he was in a field surrounded by Knights.

Spyro struggled to sit up, desperate to see his mate. This time, the Knights didn't stop him. They were too focused on the black dragoness landing amongst them, backing up to make room for her.

Cynder glanced around the area before she saw her mate. Her eyes narrowed at the sight of her mate, and she slowly stepped towards him.

Arkin landed soon after Cynder, panting from the rapid flight to the wall and back. Another Knight stepped up to him, and he breathed out a warning. "I don't think she's in the best of moods right now."

"What's going on?" Spyro asked the approaching dragoness. He could instantly tell that she was angry about something, judging by the expression on her face and the emotions she emitted in their soul-bond. "Let me guess- the Tide's still at the wall?"

Cynder's eyes narrowed sharply. "A siege, that's what going on! One that you inadvertently started!" she snarled, summoning a green gem and roughly shoving it against her mate's yellow chest.

Spyro let out a sharp bark, unprepared for the hot, fiery energy of the crystal rushing through his body. Unlike the warm, pleasant feeling he got from other crystals, this one was painful. _Is her anger seeping into the crystal's energy?_

"What's wrong with you?" he asked, lip curling as his voice took on an angry edge. The flow of energy from the crystal stopped, and Spyro attempted to stand again. Cynder, however, had other ideas.

The black dragoness shoved him with a forepaw, sending him back to the ground. She loomed over him, her eyes nearly slits. "What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you?! You went out of control, blew up the Tide commander, and started this siege! Don't you remember?!"

Spyro shook his head and righted himself, attempting to stand. "I don't remember anything after the Tide nearly destroyed Warfang!"

"YOU LEFT ME AND THE GUARDIANS TO DEFEND THE WALL BY OURSELVES!"

The Knights tensed up, their armored hands squeezing their lances, as Cynder practically screamed in her mate's face. One of them made to move forward, but Arkin shook his head

Spyro's face softened, and his gaze fell to the ground, not wanting to meet Cynder's angry glare. He could feel Cynder's anger and rage in the soul-bond, her emotions burning hotter than the sun.

But there was also a cold spot, one that hid behind the fire. It made her side of the bond pull at his soul, begging it to open up. With a jolt, he realized why she was so angry. _She's scared._

Spyro gazed deep into his mate's eyes, looking past the anger to see the fear she kept buried deep inside. "I'm sorry Cyn," he whispered, and gently opened up his side of the soul-bond, letting his emotions reach out to her soul. "I shouldn't have left you like that."

Cynder's expression relaxed before turning into one of confusion, and then went blank as she felt his soul re-connect with hers. Spyro could feel his mate searching through his memories and emotions, that burning ball of rage cooling down to regain its black and red shine.

The Knights watched on as Spyro stood up, his legs wobbling slightly as Cynder continued to stare blankly at ground. The purple dragon let out a sigh, and gazed up at the stars above. He mumbled something under his breath, and moved to embrace the dragoness across from him.

"Spyro! Cynder!" a familiar deep voice called out from above.

Everyone, including Cynder, turned their gaze to see the large form of Terrador heading towards them. The big dragon swooped down to the ground, the grass bending under the powerful force of his wings as he landed.

"It's good to see you up, Spyro. We were worried about you," the earth Guardian rumbled gently. "You too, Cynder."

The dragoness huffed. "What do you need, Terrador?"

Another dragon landed beside Terrador, garbed in simple leather armor. A bag of scrolls rested against his side, with the seal of the king branded into it.

"The King requests your audience!" the new dragon said. "He says to speak to him immediately."

"What about the wall? Those soldiers need reinforcements," Cynder asked.

"The king understands this, and has ordered several companies of Knights to provide support," the messenger said, reaching into his bag and pulling out a scroll. He handed it to Cynder, who grabbed it and skimmed over the paper.

"More knights? I guess they'll have to do," Terrador grumbled. One of the Knights standing to the side coughed, earning a glare from the earth Guardian.

"What about the other Guardians? Have they been told?" Spyro asked. The messenger nodded.

"Your fellow Guardians have been notified, and should be arriving- oh, there they are." The messenger pointed at the sky. The Guardians and Knights craned their necks to see ten new dragons landing on the grass next to them.

"Spyro, it's a pleasant sight to see you walking about!" Cyril stepped towards the young dragon, who managed a weak smile.

"So, why exactly does Tremor want to talk to us?" Lumar turned to the messenger, who simply shook his head.

"He didn't say why, and I'm not one to probe. I would hazard to guess it has to do with the defense of the city."

Spyro faced the other Guardians, a look of frustration on his face. "Look, we should go see what Tremor wants. If he says it's urgent, then we should really talk to him."

Spyro opened his wings and leapt into the air, hovering above the group. "Besides, all of you need a break from defending the wall. We'll go talk to Tremor, then turn in for the night." The Guardians nodded in agreement, and the group took off for the bunker.

Back at the field, Arkin and the other Knights sighed. "Not even a thank you…"

* * *

The thirteen Guardians flew silently through the air, not a word passing between them. They were too focused on the ruined state of their once proud city. Where once stood the gleaming jewel of Aslore now lay a burning, city-sized pile of rubble.

Glass, metal, and stone covered the ruined streets of Warfang. A fine layer of dust and ash coated the ground, turning it grey and creating a haze that permeated throughout most of the city.

Civilians and rescue crews swarmed through the rubble, searching for lost loved. Meanwhile, tens of thousands of survivors were ushered by the army to buildings that had somehow survived the attack.

Surprisingly, a large number of buildings and homes remained standing. In particular, was the King's Spire. It sat in the middle of the city, glowing like a beacon of hope, while surrounded by utter destruction. Literal streams of people flew in and out of the massive tower, packed so tightly they could be seen from miles away.

It was Cynder who broke the silence first. "There's so little left," the dragoness said. Tears formed at the corners of her eyes, only to be whisked away by the wind.

"How could one attack do so much damage?" Kindle asked in disbelief. It was one thing to witness the destruction from miles away, and another to see it up close.

"The Tide has weapons and powers beyond our greatest imagination. They just haven't have shown it until now," Toxicar sighed.

"This is just the beginning," Terrador sternly stated. Eleven pairs of eyes focused on the earth dragon, whose gaze was directed at the city below.

Kindle narrowed her eyes at the Guardians words. "What are you saying, Terrador?" The earth Guardian huffed at the question.

"I'm saying I don't think the Tide has shown the true extent of what it can do."

Typhonis' eyeridges raised in confusion. "What do you mean?

"Why would they wait several weeks to attack us? Why not just immediately move on Warfang after conquering Gitria?

"It's toying with us," Kindle realized, her eyes widening at the revelation. "By the Gods, it's been playing with us this entire time." Terrador nodded.

"How do you figure?" Volteer asked.

Terrador's steely gaze landed on the electric Guardian. "Think about it. The Tide infiltrated our world and infected hundreds of millions of people without anyone, including the Gods, noticing. Then, they attack every major city and kingdom, sparing only Warfang. During this time, the Gods find themselves unable to come to our aid.

Now, the Tide has almost completely taken over our world. Hundreds of millions of our people are now it's thralls, and the Tide uses them to destroy the last city on Aslore. In less than a month, it's turned our world against itself."

The Guardians were silent as they absorbed Terrador's words.

"You're saying-" Ventus began.

"-the Tide is just having fun. It enjoys watching us tear ourselves apart, while it moves in for final blow."

Another silence filled the air, this one lasting for several minutes. The only sounds came from the flapping of wings and the city below.

"How many do you think died?" Kindle asked, breaking the silence.

"Too many," Timora replied. "All those refugees came to Warfang, praying they would be safe here, and look what happens."

"It was inevitable that the Tide would attack us, Timora," Cynder countered. "Anyway, let's take our minds off this subject. It's too depressing. We should instead think about how to properly maintain our defense against the Tide."

Cynder glanced over at her mate to find him blankly staring off into space. She frowned, finding his part of the soul-bond unresponsive. What was going on with him? "What do you think, Spyro?" she asked.

There was a brief pause before Spyro replied. "We will make them pay. I swear this," the purple dragon snarled, an unbridled rage building in his chest. His side of the soul-bond flared, and the other Guardians glanced over at their leader, who had so far remained silent this entire flight.

"Spyro…" Cynder warned.

"And how do you plan on doing that? It's one million soldiers and 13 Guardians against an army composed of hundreds of millions!" Terroric snapped at the purple dragon.

"I don't know!" Spyro snapped back, glaring at his fellow Guardian. "But I will find a way."

"A way, he says. How predictable. Have you any idea of what _you _can do to fight the Corrupted, oh mauve one?!"

"Terroric! Now is not the time to question Spyro's spirit. Out of all of us, he's the most likely to bring us a much-needed victory," Terrador yelled, his eyes narrowing dangerously at the Guardian of the dark. Terroric mumbled under his breath and looked away.

"As for you, Spyro, any plans on defeating the Tide will have to wait. There is something we must discuss when we get the chance," Terrador said to his leader. Spyro glanced back at the green dragon. "You – and that new ability of yours."

Spyro growled at the mention of that ability, startling himself and the others. He wasn't one to get angry over discussion of his powers, but this- something about this newfound ability of his made him extremely on edge.

He barely remembered using the ability, or even any of the events on top of the wall. He recalled an intense feeling of anger and rage, before his mind just went blank. Everything after that was a blur, and then darkness.

He remained silent, focusing on his flying. They were almost to the bunker, only about a minute or so away.

"Spyro." Terrador growled.

"What."

"I said that w-"

"I know what you said, Terrador. I just want to know why you all think it's such a big deal!" the purple dragon snapped, earning looks of surprise from his fellow Guardians. Terrador's face tightened as the large dragon huffed.

"It's a big deal because we've never seen you use an ability like that before. It was more than just Convexity, Spyro – I felt traces of time energy in there as well," Lumar spoke up, her sweet voice almost unheard.

Spyro turned away as her words filled his head. _Time energy? How did that get mixed up with Convexity? What is happening to me?_

Was the power given to him by that crystal in the mountain manifesting itself? Was this what it was capable of? _Unparalleled destructive power, but a complete loss of control? _Spyro hung his head, the swirling thoughts threatening to overwhelm him. This was all so much for the dragon to take in.

Grunting internally, the dragon successfully pushed the myriad of thoughts from his head, giving him room to think.

He would have to tell the Guardians eventually that he and Cynder found that crystal in the mountain. He had kept the secret hidden for 30 years, but it seemed like he couldn't do that anymore.

They had a right to know.

"I know how I obtained these abilities," Spyro blurted out, catching the Guardians off guard. They looked at him expectedly, eagerly waiting for his answer. _More like confession_.

To Spyro's relief, he noticed the incoming form of an artisan dragon, garbed in the heavy plating of the bunker's guards.

_We're here_.

"But that conversation will have to wait."

"Guardians! We will escort you to the bunker!" the lead dragon shouted, the two dragons on either side of her maneuvering around to flank the Guardians. Spyro nodded at the female guard, who turned and directed them to the bunker.

The 16 dragons landed at the entrance of the bunker less than a minute later. "Tremor is waiting for you inside. You should hurry; he's anxious to meet with you." The artisan guard told them.

The Guardians were quickly ushered into the underground building, only to meet a disturbing sight: parts of the ceiling had collapsed, leaving multi-ton chunks of rock and stone strewn about the hallway. Jagged pieces of metal littered the ground, torn apart by the tremendous force of the Tide's weapon.

Spyro whistled as he took in the destruction of the bunker. "Wow. The Tide really did a number on this place."

"How did their weapon penetrate the bunker? I thought it was supposed to withstand attacks like that!" Umbran asked, shocked at the state of the bunker. Everyone's head was on a swivel as they glanced around the room. Damage like this seriously compromised the structural integrity of the building.

"Apparently, the bunker's not as strong as we thought it was." Typhonis gave his opinion. Careful not to disturb any fallen support struts, the Guardians made their way through the bunker, taking note of the number of collapsed rooms. They eventually entered the main conference chamber, where they saw Tremor and Sparx waiting for them.

The yellow dragonfly immediately zipped up to his brother's face, buzzing about with excitement. "Spyro buddy, you're here! I thought you guys were gonna get killed by the Tide!"

Spyro smiled, relieved to Sparx safe and sound. "You should have more faith in me Sparx," the purple dragon chuckled. Sparx stuck his tongue out at Spyro. "Anyway, why are you here?"

"Oh, Cynder ordered me to tell Tremor to mobilize the army. You have no idea how fast I flew here. I think I almost tore one of my wings during the flight." The dragonfly adjusted poked his right wing to make sure it was still attached.

"Guardians, thank you for coming. I'm glad you all got here on such short notice," Tremor said, walking around the side of the table. The Guardians bowed.

"We came as fast as we could, your majesty," said Spyro.

"Thank you for holding off the Tide while the army mobilized. Gods know what would've happened had they broken in," the king said, shuddering at the thought. "With the magi-field up, we should be safe for a couple weeks. At least, until the power crystals run out."

The king walked back to his spot at the empty table. Shifting to his anthros form, he collapsed in his chair, letting out a deep sigh as he sank into the cushions.

"The good news is the army has been working hard to restore our most critical infrastructure: hospitals, housing, food and water storage, crystal plants, everything the city needs to keep running. Furthermore, if the repair enchantments work as intended, some of the collapsed buildings will be habitable again."

The Guardians were stunned. Repairing ruined buildings in under a week? That was unheard of! "I…didn't even know that Warfang had self-reparation enchantments that strong," Spyro said.

"Not many do. Like the magi-field, nearly all of Warfang's new defenses and enchantments are top secret, and not shared with even our closest allies. If they don't know what are defenses are like, then there's no good way to assault us is there?"

"Unless you have hundreds of millions of troops at your disposal," Terroric dryly commented.

Tremor shrugged. "There is that," he sighed. A brief pause filled the air before the king spoke again.

"In other news, the number of casualties is lower than we expected. It's still a lot, over a million people dead," many of the Guardian's eyes widened at the figure, "but our initial estimates were placed around 10-15 million."

He clasped his hands together, tail and wings idly twitching. "The Tide may have dealt us a major blow, but we've survived, and right now that's all that truly matters."

"I wonder how long it'll stay that way," Sparx mumbled. Cynder rolled her eyes as she took a step towards the table.

"Your majesty, you need to start evacuating civilians out of the Outskirts. That shield won't hold the Tide forever, and it'll be a slaughter if they break through with civilians still inside."

"I know, which is why I gave the order the moment Sparx arrived here." The earth dragon summoned a crystal into his paw, which cast a 3D map of the city onto the table.

"We've got ten major evacuation shelters located throughout the city." Tremor highlighted the buildings in question in yellow. "They can hold the largest number of civilians. Once they are full, anyone else will be sent to smaller underground bunkers scattered throughout the Outer and Inner city."

Hundreds of small blue dots appeared on the map. The Guardians studied them in interest, memorizing the locations should they ever need to send people there.

"What about fighting off the Tide?" Kindle asked.

"General Flame estimated we have only a few weeks until the Tide break through the outer shield, and then breach the wall. Once they do that, we effectively lose the Outskirts."

"We aren't putting up any resistance?"

"Oh we will be, but our forces will be slowly retreating to the Outer city. The Outskirts are simply too large to defend effectively, and with the numerical advantage the Tide possesses, we wouldn't last long if we mounted a full defense."

Terrador nodded. The largest flaw with attempting to mount an effective defense in the Outskirts was the sheer size of the land. Even with two million soldiers, the army would spread itself thin trying to mount an appropriately size defense.

It was far more important to increase the defense surrounding the Outer City.

"What about the Outer City? What are the defenses like there?" the earth dragon asked, pointing to the green ring on the map.

"I haven't ordered the soldiers stationed there to start working on defenses yet. As of now, they're still clearing out rubble, finding trapped civilians, and repairing the most important buildings."

Toxicar's brow raised. "Do you at least have an outline?"

"My generals are working on it now, but so far we're just going to fortify the wall with as many enchantments, wards, and armor plates as possible. Once the outer shield goes down, we can redirect that energy to the inner shields, giving us even more time."

Tremor put the crystal back in his pocket and rested his head on a scaled hand, sighing again.

"Right now, our largest problem is food and water. We've got plenty of underground stores that survived the attack, but most of the surface storages have been destroyed. Even bigger is the issue of spirit crystals. To be frank, we're going to run out real. Probably within the next month or so, if our plantations work at full capacity."

"You haven't set up a rationing system already?" Cynder asked. Tremor shook his head.

"The court's already laid one out, and we will put it into effect later today, after I give a speech to everyone in Warfang."

The Guardians nodded.

"Anyway, we should talk more about this to-"

"Your majesty?" someone said from the doorway. All eyes turned to a guard standing at the entrance, who bowed once spotted.

"Yes? What is it?" Tremor asked.

The guard cleared her throat. "There's a large convoy of dragons outside the Intreg gate on the eastern side of the wall. They claim to be survivors from Gitria."

"Gitria? I thought we had already received all the survivors. How many are there?"

"We did, your majesty, but this group claims to have taken a longer, safer passage through the mountains. As for numbers, we counted about three hundred."

"How'd they get past the Tide's forces?"

"Apparently, their path took them directly underneath the Tide's army and right into the Outskirts. The soldiers who spotted them say the convoy came out of a very large, well-disguised rock."

Tremor paused as he took in the information. It was unusual for a group of refugees to arrive so much later than others, and during a major siege for that matter.

He remembered how many times a convoy of apes or other beast races came to Warfang during the Great War, claiming to seek refuge within the walls of the city, only to turn around and start killing everything sight.

"Until we can verify their claim, I saw we hold them outside the inner walls. We can bring them inside if need-be, but at least they won't be in harm's way," Spyro suggested. Tremor slowly nodded as he thought over the purple dragon's plan. It made sense

He turned to the guard. "Do what the Guardians suggests. Take them to a shelter outside the inner walls, but make sure they stay together. I'll have a _micrik_ of knights keep an eye on them."

The guard bowed again before turning and walking out.

Tremor leaned back in his chair, a deep sigh making its way from his chest. His gaze shifted to the Guardians, who all had sleepy looks on their faces.

"Well, I think we're done for now. You guys look like you're about to fall over from exhaustion. Go get some sleep, and we'll talk about this later," Tremor instructed.

"Are there any rooms in the bunker we can use?" Tremor shook his head.

"The Chamber was designed to house the Royal Family and a few generals for a few weeks at most, as well as acting as a meeting area for. It's not meant to be used for long periods of time," Tremor sighed, scratching his temple. "Besides, it sustained major damage in the attack. Only this room and three others are intact. You noticed the lack of people here when you arrived?"

The Guardians nodded. "I've decided to abandon the Chamber as our headquarters. The Spire will be our new HQ, and I've sent anyone of importance there."

Spyro nodded. It made sense, actually. The Spire was the most well-defended building in the entire city, and could house the entire command staff of Warfang's military. With all the shielding set up, combined with it's incredibly thick walls, the Spire could take the worst the Tide had to offer.

It hadn't stopped the Tide from appearing inside before, but with the magi-field up, there was no way the Tide could teleport inside.

"Well, I guess we'll go back to the Academy then. Until next time, Tremor."

The Guardians made to leave, shifting to their feral forms and turning to the door.

"The Academy is gone."

The thirteen dragons froze, their blood turning to ice. They turned to face Tremor, whose gaze was locked on the table.

"What did you say?" Cynder quietly asked, eyes as wide as saucers.

"The Academy is gone, along with all of your homes. The Academy District was hit the worst in the entire Inner City. Almost everything there has collapsed," Tremor grimly stated.

"Did the students get out in time?" Terrador asked, his voice and heart filled with dread. Those students were the lifeline of Warfang, representing the future of both Warfang and Aslore itself.

Tremor was silent for a few moments before looking at Terrador. His silence was the only answer the Guardians needed.

"Oh Gods, no…" Umbran breathed, placing a hand over her mouth.

Tremor quickly spoke to assuage the Guardian's fears. "The Academy was mostly empty by the time the wave hit. Unfortunately, there were still about a thousand still inside when the building crumbled," he shook his head. Collectively, the Guardians felt their hearts sink.

"How-how many survived?" Lumar asked, hoping for a positive answer. However, deep down, she and the other Guardians knew that no one survived the collapse.

"None," Tremor confirmed. The Guardians felt their hearts break at his words. A thousand of their students – gone. Along with the entire Academy. Thousands of ancient scrolls, texts, pieces of art, and priceless artifacts spanning tens of thousands of years destroyed.

To the the older Guardians, it was Malefor all over again.

"The Tide will pay for this," Cynder hissed. A chorus of deep, low roars rang out in the room, the Guardians agreeing with the black dragoness. "They will pay dearly."

"How about the Temple? Is it still up?" Spyro eagerly asked, earning a nod from Tremor. A sigh of relief escaped the purple dragon's lips; at least not all of their ancient buildings were destroyed.

"The Temple's protective magic kicked in after it fell. It's been repairing itself; a tremendous feat considering how much damage it took. You should be able to rest in there."

"Just like old times," Cyril huffed, throwing a glare at Volteer. The yellow dragon thre his paws up, silently asking Cyril what he had down.

"Thank you, Tremor," Ventus spoke. "You've done so much for us and this city."

"I should be thanking you all. This is the least I could do for the first defenders of the outer wall,"

"I ordered the interior of the Temple to be cleaned up as much as possible. It should be habitable by the time you get there."

The Guardians bowed. "We'll meet you tomorrow in the Spire to discuss our next plan of action," Cynder said.

"May the Ancestors look after us," Spyro stated.

"May they look after us all," everyone else echoed. With aching bodies and broken hearts, the Guardians and Sparx trudged back through the hallway before taking off to the Temple.

* * *

The Guardians practically collapsed as they landed on the Temple's outer platform. The past 48 hours had been an exhausting ordeal, and the energy they gained from consuming green crystals could only take them so far.

Spyro "Alright, everyone go get some sleep. I don't care how much you need, but just make sure, you're fresh and ready for whatever lies ahead," Spyro instructed.

"And after our meeting in the Spire? What do we do then?" Lumar asked. All eyes were on the purple dragon as he hummed in thought.

"I put the forward the idea that we collaborate with the army on reparations of our critical infrastructure," Volteer proposed. Cyril and Terroric glared at the electric Guardian..

"You mean help the army repair hospitals, shelters, and other important buildings?" Kindle clarified. Volteer nodded eagerly.

"Precisely!" he exclaimed.

"Even at the end of the world, Volteer still finds a way to run that tongue of his," Cyril joked as he walked off to a room.

The Guardians allowed themselves a small chuckle, before breaking up to go find rooms of their own. Cynder watched them go, their tails and wings dragging along the ground, exhausted to the point they could barely move.

Spyro nudged his mate, her head snapping around to meet his gaze. "Come on," he said, nodding his head towards one of the many hallways. "Let's go use our old room. It should still be big enough for both of us."

"Hey, don't forget about me!" Sparx said, crossing his arms as he pouted.

Spyro grinned sheepishly at his adoptive brother. "Right, sorry Sparx. There should be room for you as well."

The dragonfly merely huffed before zipping off to the room, leaving the two young Guardians at the entrance.

"Well, let's go before he steals the entire bed." The two kissed before walking down the hall together. Aside from the clacks of their talons on the ground and the snoring of the other Guardians, the Temple was eerily quiet.

"Remember all those times we had to sneak past the Guardians during the middle of the night so we could be with each other?" Cynder asked, a smile gracing her muzzle.

Spyro chuckled as those memories came back to

"Well, here we are. Just how I remember it," Spyro sighed, pausing to take in the sight of their old room.

The two dragons shifted to their anthros forms, pulling off their armor and stacking it at the foot of the bed. Both of them were left naked, but after being in the metal plate for over a day, the cool air felt refreshing to their scales.

Cynder sat down on the bed as Spyro closed the doors and curtains, a sigh leaving the black dragoness' chest.

"I'm sorry, Spyro," Cynder apologized, her gaze falling to the ground. "I shouldn't have yelled at you earlier."

Spyro closed the last curtain and sat down next to his mate, his four-fingered paw rubbing her back. "It's just… it was too much for me. The breach, then the Tide demolishing our city, then you losing control and using that power…"

She wiped the forming tears from her eyes as she choked up. Spyro wrapped his arms her, kissing her scales and holding her tight.

"When you lost control, I just… everything went numb. Our home was gone. I couldn't feel you in the bond. For a brief second, my entire world was gone."

"I'm scared, Spy," she cried into his shoulder, digging her claws into his back. "I just want this to be over. I want to wake up from this nightmare."

Hot tears fell from the purple dragon's cheeks, dripping onto Cynder's horns. He kissed her head, saying, "I do too."

Something within Spyro snapped upon saying those words. His bottled-up emotions spilled forth, filling his heart with rage. Anger danced beneath his eyes, and he snarled viciously. He tore his body away from Cynder, and began pacing around the room.

"I just want peace! I just want to never have to fight again! I just want to live a good life! I don't want these powers! I don't want this burden of being the one who _has _to save the world! I just want to be me!" he yelled, startling Sparx from his sleep. Cynder watched in horror as her mate broke down in front of her, tears streaming from his eyes.

"Spyro, please!" she pleaded, but the purple dragon paid no attention to her. She could feel his pain and anger in the bond, and it killed her that she couldn't do anything to help him.

Spyro swiped his claws at the wall, leaving deep gouges in the stone. There was a pause, before he spread his wings, looked up at the ceiling, and roared. A burst of golden energy erupted from his body, briefly blinding Cynder and Sparx. The soul-bond fluttered before re-stabilizing, a sign that Spyro had (mostly) calmed down.

"Spyro…"

The purple dragon panted. He sniffled, wiping away his tears, and turned to his mate. The anger in his eyes was replaced by pain and overwhelming sadness.

For the second time that day, Cynder felt her heart break. Seeing her mate like this… nothing else in the world could hurt as much as this.

"I just wanted to settle down with you. Having hatchlings of our own, watch them grow and prosper and lead this world into a new age," the purple dragon said, gazing deep into her green orbs. A part of her heart fluttered at the mention of children, a dream of hers that she always wished would come true.

A fantasy.

Spyro sniffled again, and walked over to the window sill, gazing out at his ruined home. The drake remained silent, his emotions threatening to boil over again.

Cynder stood up and stepped towards him, letting her love for her mate flood into their bond. She could see him relax slightly, the tenseness in his shoulders and wings evaporating.

"But it doesn't look like that's going to happen now," he admitted covering his face with his hands. His body jerked as he silently cried,

Cynder wrapped her arms around him and held him tight, breasts pressed up against his back. She kissed him on the cheek, nuzzling his neck as he slowly reached up to grab her hand.

Sparx watched the two, a tear of his own forming in the corner of his eye. The dragonfly wasn't one for romance, but seeing his brother break down in front of him… Sparx had never been so scared in his whole life.

He floated down to Spyro and rested a tiny hand on the anthros dragon's shoulder. He didn't say anything. He didn't need to. The dragonfly joined the dragons for a moment longer before sleep beckoned him, and he flew back up to his tiny room.

Cynder pulled Spyro's arm, bringing the large dragon to their bed.

"We will get through this. I promise." Cynder snuggled into his chest. The two laid down onto the bed, and Cynder pulled the covers over the two of them. She nuzzled her crying mate, her tears mixing with his.

"And when we do… well, I think it's about time we became parents, don't you think?"

A pair of amethyst, bloodshot orbs glanced up at her, a flicker of hope igniting behind the iris'.

Spyro smiled. "I'd love that."

The pair kissed again, pressing their foreheads together, fully opening their connections through their bond. Emotions flooded through the two of them, and they basked in each other's embrace.

"I love you."

"I love you too."


End file.
